


No Matter What You've Lost

by galactic_roses



Category: Klaus (2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Banter, Biting, Blood and Injury, Depression, F/M, Face-Sitting, Flirting, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Canon, SO MUCH ALCOHOL, Sea Shanties, Sex, Singing, Slow Burn, Tattoos, Teasing, human bowling, i guess, i love this stinky boatman, i needed him to have at least one happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22012519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactic_roses/pseuds/galactic_roses
Summary: “I’m not lost, and I need passage to Smeerensburg,” said a low, husky voice. “You’re the boatman, right? My mother told me about you.”Teo arrives in Smeerensburg in a whirlwind of ginger braids, snapping gray eyes, and sharp-tongued words, and takes the boatman by storm.
Relationships: Alva (Klaus 2019)/Original Female Character(s), Mogens (Klaus 2019)/Original Character(s), mogens/oc
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aaand it's done! Someone mentioned that Mogens needs to get his butt handed to him, and then Teo happened. Fun times. 
> 
> I got the title from The Mary Ellen Carter by Stan Rogers, a fantastic song, specifically the part in the last chorus that goes:  
>  _No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend_  
>  _Like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again!_
> 
> Thanks to my lovely beta reader @captainmogens 
> 
> Also, this is definitely a bit of a slow burn, it's rated Explicit for some fun times much later on. 
> 
> Enjoy!

A string of curses and the thump of boots on the snowy ground outside the ferryman’s shack woke Mogens from a nap, the fifth he’d taken that day. He shifted irritably and kept his eyes closed, hoping the person would figure out they were in the wrong place and leave him alone. Instead, a finger tapped briskly against the open section of the shack’s door.

“I’m not lost, and I need passage to Smeerensburg,” said a low, husky voice. “You’re the boatman, right? My mother told me about you.”

Mogens cracked an eyelid and lifted his cap so he could peer blearily up at this new annoyance. The stranger was shrouded in a woolen coat and a thick scarf that covered most of their face. A woolen hat was pulled over their hair so only a few ginger strands escaped. The only feature Mogens could see clearly was a pair of ice-gray eyes that danced as they looked down at him.

“Your mother, hmm?” he finally replied, frowning and pushing himself slowly to his feet. “Don’t think I know who you’re talking about.”

He _heartily_ wished that he could finish his nap, but he grudgingly swung the door open instead, nearly clipping the toes of the stranger’s boots. They didn’t jump out of the way as he expected, just stepped placidly aside so he could pass.

“You probably wouldn’t know her, but everyone on Smeerensburg knows who you are,” the stranger said with amiable good humor. Mogens found that statement to be vaguely unsettling, but he shoved that feeling away and plastered his most convincing and reliable grin across his face.

“Right-o! This way, then. Just wait ‘til you see, I have one of those fancy boats, the kind that actually floats on water. Shocking, right?”

Mogens strode down the dock and hopped nimbly onto his boat, then waited for the stranger to lead their small, stocky horse after him.

Once the animal was tied safely to the boat’s railing, the stranger dropped onto a crate and let out a long sigh. Their cheerful, steady demeanor almost irritated the boatman. Nervous, flighty people, like the new postman in Smeerensburg, were much easier to rattle. The thought of Jesper made him want to be asleep again, so he watched the stranger out of the corner of his eye instead as the boat moved away from the dock, out into open water.

An hour passed before the stranger broke the silence.

“I was all prepared for this to be so much colder,” they said, yanking off their hat to free a tumble of thick ginger braids. Mogens dragged himself out of his beautiful, sea-induced reverie and shifted to get a better look at the stranger’s face as they unwound their scarf.

He saw a pleasant, if slightly homely visage. The stranger sported a long, razor sharp, blunt-tipped nose that looked like it had been broken once before. Their mouth was thin-lipped and wide, lips pink and slightly chapped. A strong jawline, high cheekbones, and pointed chin gave their face a curiously angular look. Their most interesting features were definitely their eyes. Wide, ice-gray, and framed with thick ginger lashes. When the wind blew the hair off their forehead a tiny scar showed above their right eyebrow, white against the pale skin. Pink roses bloomed on their lightly freckled cheeks, and as they shook out their braids, Mogens caught a glimpse of gold sparkling in their earlobes.

“I like to feel the ocean breeze on my face, but not at the expense of my ears or nose,” they said, glancing at Mogens and flashing a set of even, white teeth and a single dimple. Mogens raised his eyebrows. Usually, people who rode his boat to Smeerensburg complained about the temperature, but not this smiling stranger.

“Actually, missing ears and noses is a fashionable look in Smeerensburg these days. Everyone’s doing it.”

The stranger chuckled, but didn’t reply.

Hours later, the rocky crags of Smeerensburg came into view through the mist. The stranger jumped to their feet and grasped the boat rail, eyes fixed on the approaching land.

“Welcome to Smeerensburg!” Mogens called cheerfully. “Land of the friendliest people you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting!”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

The stranger spoke softly, their voice barely audible above the wind. Mogens still wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly, even once he’d pulled the boat up to the dock. He hadn’t even managed to let go of the wheel before the stranger jumped off the boat with their horse in tow. They led the animal to the end of the dock, then paused, dropped the reigns, and jogged back to the boat in time to help Mogens with the mooring lines.

“Thanks for the ride. Don’t worry about giving me the tour, I can find my way just fine,” they said, flashing their dimple once more. “What was your name, again?”

Knowing full well that he had never introduced himself in the first place, Mogens propped his fists on his hips and shook his head dejectedly.

“You don’t care enough to even remember my name, so why should I waste my breath repeating it?” he drawled. “You’d only forget again the minute I’m out of your sight.”

The stranger threw back their head and let out a harsh, crackling laugh.

“Oh, I’m just kidding, Mogens. You have a great name. It means ‘powerful’, right?” They paused, then bared their teeth in a smile that was almost predatory. “Shame we can’t all live up to our names, isn’t it?”

Face smug, the stranger turned and strode past the boatman to their horse, swung up into the saddle, and urged the animal into a trot. They turned and waved cheekily as they disappeared into the misty darkness.

Mogens stared after them, mouth slightly agape as he realized that the stranger had already known his name without needing an introduction. Then he shook himself and adjusted his cap. They hadn’t even introduced themself. He frowned. He’d gotten so used to being able to make people squirm with his wit that it had been a long time since anyone had left him speechless. Whistling through his teeth, he drew a flask out of his pocket. He didn’t like being left speechless, and he would make sure it didn’t happen again.

Teo grinned to herself as she dismounted and led her horse into the tiny stable behind her mother’s house. Her mother had indeed warned her about the boatman, calling him a lay-about and a vagabond, and other less-than-kind words. Despite that, Teo had found him charming, if a bit snarky, and she looked forward to having the chance to make fun of him again in the future, since she would be in Smeerensburg for the long haul.


	2. Chapter 2

It took Teo a few weeks to settle into life in Smeerensburg, as she had to get accustomed to a house she’d only ever been in once before when she was very young, and had to remember to duck whenever she left the house so as not to get hit by flying debris thrown by the feuding clansmen. Word of her arrival had traveled fast across town, and she had been hailed with rowdy greetings from her relatives, the Ellingboes, and greeted with disgust by the other clan on the island, the Krums. She knew all about the feud between the clans before her arrival, but having grown up on the mainland, she didn’t care about it at all. However, it did take some getting used to. After a few days of forgetting to duck and receiving a frying pan or potted plant to the face, she soon got used to the routine. Getting used to living with her mother was another story; the woman was weak from a long-term bout of sickness and needed plenty of help with everyday chores.

Her closest cousins dropped by for a visit only a few days after she arrived, and she took an immediate liking to them. They were a rowdy pair of men, and Teo got along with them quite well. She didn’t know many other people in town, and was glad to have already found a couple drinking partners. 

When she wasn’t drinking with her cousins or helping with chores, Teo filled the time in other ways. Though an herbalist by trade, she liked to chop wood and spin yarn in her free time. It took a bit of asking around to find a small, forgotten bale of wool in someone’s attic, but once it had been discovered, it quickly made its way to her. Once a week, she trekked into the woods to look for herbs to make into medicines, but since it was autumn and most of the plants were already dead, her searches were rarely successful.

Teo only saw the boatman, Mogens, in passing on the street. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him since the night she arrived, but he greeted her with a cheerful grin every time they saw each other. He was always around, somewhere. He reminded Teo of a stray cat, always napping in unoccupied chairs on unwatched porches, and more than once, she had seen him being chased off a deck by an angry woman with a broom. When he wasn’t sleeping, he seemed to spend most of his time drinking from a tankard or a flask and watching the clans feud with lazy, half-closed eyes.

Over time, she noticed that Mogens seemed to especially enjoy tormenting the infamous postman. Riding by the post office one day, she’d seen what appeared to be the sizable back end of the boatman protruding from the window of the rickety building. Resisting the urge to stop and give him a swift boot in the rump, and reminding herself that she had no real reason to do so, she rode on. Later that week, she watched Mogens deftly hook a loop of rope around the postman’s ankle as he passed by the dock, neatly dumping him on his front. When the postman had recovered enough to turn and glare at Mogens, he’d seen the man innocently coiling the rope in his thick-fingered hands.

Teo liked the postman, Jesper, despite the general air of hatred toward him. Her mother had spoken about him over dinner at one point, and Teo had gone to investigate the next day out of curiosity. Jesper was a high-strung young man in his early thirties, always jumping about at loud noises and the occasional gunshot, but he showed a surprisingly stubborn streak, and Teo liked that about him.

The weeks went by, and Jesper stuck around, to everyone’s surprise. Teo ran into him more and more often the longer she stayed in Smeerensburg. As the days passed, she watched both the postman and the town change before her eyes. Jesper grew bolder and more confident, even standing up to Mogens when the man tried to tease him. The townspeople became livelier, even cheerful. Teo had some idea about what was happening, but she figured it wasn’t her business, so she kept to herself. She didn’t need to tell anyone what she’d seen.

One afternoon, Teo was taking a stroll to clear her head when she saw Jesper walking toward her, looking extremely put upon.

“Oh, Teo,” Jesper said, his expression shifting to one of relief when he spotted her. “Mogens has a special delivery for you, but he’s refusing to bring it to you himself, and it’s too heavy for me to carry.”

Teo sighed.

“Classic Mogens. I’m glad it arrived, at least,” she replied. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem,” Jesper said. “Also, he’s being especially nasty today. I figured I’d warn you.”

“Thanks.”

When Teo stopped by the dock, she found the ferryman standing beside his boat, apparently asleep on his feet. Readying her wits, she walked up and crossed her arms, smiling sardonically.

“With a life as boring as yours, I’d fall asleep standing up, too.”

It brought her a surge of enjoyment to see the boatman’s eyes open slowly and settle on her face. He blinked once, then his crooked, toothy grin fixed itself firmly into its usual spot

“Why, if it isn’t miss Teodora, the elusive newcomer,” he drawled, tipping his hat. “I’d started to think your arrival was just a beautiful fever dream.”

“Call me Teo,” she said, interrupting him before he could continue. “And if you slept in a bed like a normal person instead of on strangers’ porches maybe you wouldn’t confuse reality with fever dreams, Casanova. Anyway, Jesper said you have something for me?”

Mogens’ lips twitched for a moment, then he raised one thick eyebrow, and his grin twisted into a smirk. The look sent a surge of heated annoyance into the bottom of Teo’s stomach.

“Jesper said so, hmm?”

The boatman scratched the back of his neck, pretending to think for a minute. Teo ignored her building irritation and waited for him to decide to cooperate or not. Finally, he pointed to a large, canvas-wrapped bale on the back of the boat and said,

“There you go. I would have brought it to you, but I can’t lift it myself. Bad back, you see.”

Teo saw the wicked twinkle his eyes as he spoke, but she paid it no heed. She shrugged, climbed aboard the boat, and hoisted the heavy bale into her arms. Years of chopping wood to heat her father’s house on the mainland had made her much stronger than she looked, and though the bale was a bit heavier than was comfortable to lift, the expression on Mogens face as she walked by him was worth the strain.

“If a little bale of wool is so hard for you to carry,” she said, pausing at the end of the dock, “perhaps you should consider retirement, old man, or at the very least a doctor for that back of yours.”

She left before he had a chance to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof roasted lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Mogens gets into his stride...

The bale of wool was a blessing, as she’d run out of raw material to spin just a few days before. Diving into the task of carding and spinning, she emptied her mind, forgetting about the boatman entirely. It was several days before she surfaced again, if only to get outside for a few hours before returning to her task. Eventually she’d spun enough to need a longer break, so she set down her handful of wool and stood, stretching her back with a groan.

“Teodora, my love,” her mother’s voice quavered from the next room. “Would you please find the postman and mail this letter for me?”

Teo bit her lip and walked to her mother’s bedside, gently taking the thin envelope from her skeletal fingers.

“Of course. Would you like anything else while I’m out?”

The old woman shook her head. Teo leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

“I’ll be back before nightfall,” she murmured, and left, grabbing two more sealed envelopes and her thick, woolen coat on the way out. The air was cold on her bare face, but she breathed deeply, inhaling the crisp, sharp scent of winter.

“I don’t think that’ll be going anywhere any time soon,” someone drawled. Teo jumped slightly and turned to look for the speaker, eyes wide.

“The air, that is,” the voice continued with a chuckle. Mogens stepped off the hidden section of the neighbors porch and out into the afternoon light, still chuckling. “There’s no need to act like it’s gonna be gone by tomorrow.”

He directed his half-lidded eyes at Teo and grinned. Usually, that expression made her want to smile back, but she was still a little shaken as she often was after talking to her mother when she was doing badly, and was in no mood for Mogens’ antics. She widened her eyes, mouth twisting down into faint grimace, them strode past him without a word. He caught up to her a few seconds later, whistling cheerfully, and gestured grandly at the snow-covered town.

“Smeerensburg is just stunning this time of year, isn’t it?” he said.

Teo paid no attention to him and kept walking, annoyed that he was able to keep up with her. She sped up. The familiar warm irritation was worming its way into her stomach, and she figured if the man was dead-set on being a nuisance, then he would have to work for it.

“I know it isn’t the mainland,” Mogens continued, unperturbed, or perhaps encouraged, by her lack of response, “but it really does just take one’s breath away.”

“If it takes your breath away, how come you still have enough to keep talking?” Teo asked grumpily.

“Seen it too many times,” Mogens replied, looking like Christmas had come early. He had obviously picked up on her mood and intended to take full advantage of the lapse in her usual patience to needle her. She sighed, knowing full well that he hadn’t forgotten the last few times she’d bested him in the needling game they’d been playing since she arrived.

“Nothing takes my breath away,” he said cheerfully. “Even though I’ve got my bad back, my lungs are in the pink of health. All the fresh sea air, you know.”

He winked, and Teo scowled, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets. The man was beginning to get under her skin.

“Explains why you’re such a windbag,” she muttered irritably. Mogens cupped a hand around his ear and leaned toward her as they walked, his expression radiating smugness.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” he drawled.

“I said, ‘why are you following me?’,” was the curt reply, and Mogens’ smug smile grew even wider.

“I’m on my way to visit my dear friend the postman, of course.”

“What a coincidence,” Teo said, trying in vain to swallow the welling anger that had begun to constrict her throat. It defied her, continuing to rise into her mouth until she wanted to chew on her tongue. Mogens adjusted his hat.

“It seems you’re headed there yourself. Are you intending to utilize our fabulous postal system?”

“No,” Teo responded, summoning a burst of false gusto and running a hand through her wild mane of hair, “I’m only going to the post office to visit my one true love, Jesper Johansson. I simply pine away when I haven’t seen him in more than a day.”

“We’re on the same errand, then?” he said, clearly entertained by her answer. His eyes sparkled. “I hate to tell you this, but I believe we’re both fighting a losing battle in that department.”

That surprised Teo into letting out a crackling bark of laughter, and suddenly, her irritation melted away. She relaxed, feeling her muscles loosen under her comfortable woolen clothes, and let her own, dimpled smile curve into place.

“Heavens, Mogens, you really do always know the right thing to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” the boatman replied, solemnly adjusting his hat again. “One I share as often as I can.”

They arrived at the post office a few minutes later, Teo in the lead with Mogens lagging a few steps behind her. Something had amused him while they walked, though Teo wasn’t sure what could make him grin in that particular way. She shoved her curiosity aside and made a beeline for the door, while he strolled around the side of the building, his smile nearly splitting his face in two. Ignoring him, Teo opened the post office door and slipped inside.

She was unprepared for the raucous mob of children that waited inside the tiny, ramshackle building. Each child clutched a letter and a coin like their lives depended on it, and each was vying desperately for the postman’s attention. A shocked laugh burst from Teo’s throat at the sight. The noise caught Jesper’s attention, and he looked up at her, returning her smile just as Mogens poked his head through the window.

“Hey there, chief, how’re we doing to—” He stopped and gasped, apparently shocked by the crowd of children in the room, then Jesper lifted a leg and deftly kicked the window shut in his face. Teo couldn’t help it; she bent over and laughed and laughed until her sides ached and tears ran down her cheeks. Once she’d recovered some of her breath, she handed Jesper her letters and the appropriate postage.

“These are important,” she told him, still breathless with mirth. “Please make sure they get to the right place.”

Jesper nodded, then resumed accepting the children’s envelopes. Teo waited until she was outside again before she dissolved once more into hoots of joy, laughing until her head spun. When she finally straightened up, gasping for air, Mogens was standing in front of her, head tilted to one side, his expression curious.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen an Ellingboe laugh that hard before,” he commented.

“I’m half an Ellingboe, and only by blood,” she said, wiping her streaming eyes and doing her best to will away the unbidden warmth that rose in her cheeks. “And I couldn’t care less about the family history.”

A glitter of orange on the snow reminded her of the time.

“I have to go,” she said, abruptly sober once more, and moved to pass by the boatman, but he lifted a lazy hand to stop her.

“Wait a moment, if you please,” he said. His black eyes glinted in the dying light. “I do believe I’ve forgotten something.”

He made a show of digging in every one of his pockets before producing a small, flat package wrapped in waxed paper and twine.

“This is for you, arrived safely this morning from the mainland.”

Teo reached out for the parcel, and her fingertips accidentally brushed against his. The touch sent a weird shock racing up her arm and she jerked back, unnerved. Mogens raise his eyebrows at the sudden movement, but he didn’t seem to have felt anything. Teo bit her lip and reached out again, gingerly taking the paper-wrapped object, looking it over.

“The static electricity is terrible right now,” she said with a poor attempt at bravado, and thrust the parcel into her coat pocket. “I guess it’s drier than usual?”

The boatman tilted his head to the other side.

“Static?”

Teo felt her face turn pink and shrugged.

“Never mind,” she said, turning to go.

“I came all this way to deliver that package to you in person and you won’t even open it?” Mogens said in disbelief, his eyebrows just about vanishing under the brim of his hat. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you don’t care about my feelings!”

“Oh, I can’t wait to open it,” she replied absently, and reached up to touch her warm cheeks. Her forehead also felt hot. “What’s happening to me?”

“Pardon?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, turning hastily away. “Thanks for the delivery.”

Rattled out of her normal calm, she made for home with record speed, arriving red-faced and winded, but once she’d gotten inside and opened the package, she forgot about everything.

The package contained several small packets of different powdered dyes. Each had been carefully labeled and had meticulous instructions for their proper use written on one side, and handling them, Teo felt a surge of pleasure. She would be able to dye the wool she used in her spinning, and even color the skeins she had already spun. Lost in visions of brightly colored clothing, she climbed into her bed and drifted to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Christmas was approaching quickly, and for the first time in remembered history, Smeerensburg was filled with festive cheer. Families from both clans were working together to fix up the town and hang decorations and lights around the village center. The strings of Christmas lights twinkled in the darkness, and candles shone in nearly every window, the golden-yellow glow from their flames making the snow outside sparkle.

Teo enjoyed the holiday, but mostly for the excuse to buy the expensive things she couldn’t justify getting during the rest of the year. Since her gift to herself had already arrived, she focused mostly on finishing the gift she’d made for her mother.

The two days before Christmas, Teo thought she could feel trouble brewing in the town. The sun was warm that afternoon, so she’d decided to take advantage of the nice weather to sit on her porch and finish the mittens that were to be her mother’s Christmas present. Between counting stitches and checking her progress, she watched the townspeople bustle to and fro, setting up last minute decorations or doing so last-minute shopping for dinner. She knew most of their names by now, and greeted the more friendly of the bunch as they passed by, but something still felt strange. Both the clan elders and their closest kinsmen hadn’t appeared at all during the day, which was unusual. Typically, at least one or two of the elder’s subordinates were sent out over the day to run errands. Teo was unnerved by this absence, so she decided to head to the bar and hopefully avoid getting caught in the middle of whatever was going to happen. She was in the middle of stowing her knitting in its cloth bag when someone leaned on her porch railing and addressed her.

“What’ve you got there, miss Teodora?”

Teo looked up and saw Mogens resting his chin in his hand, watching her curiously. She blushed.

“It’s called knitting,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm despite her strange and sudden embarrassment. Mogens’ eyes widened, and his eyebrows disappeared under the brim of his hat, an expression he milked to the fullest extent whenever possible, yielding flawless results every time. This time was no different.

“Knitting? _Knitting?_ ” he said, slowly testing the word out for himself, exaggerating every syllable. “…Never heard of it. Now what, perchance, is ‘knitting’?”

Teo blinked once, then began to giggle. His mannerisms never failed to disappoint, at least on good days. She grubbed in her bag and pulled out the mittens so he could see, and he made a thorough investigation of the woolly objects, as if he truly had never encountered a piece of knitted clothing before.

“That’s pure genius,” he finally pronounced, straightening and adjusting his cap. “Clothes made of wool? I wonder who thought that up… What an extraordinary and _very_ unusual idea.”

He grinned and scratched under the neck of his own woolen sweater.

“Oh, very,” Teo replied. She hid her answering grin behind the pretext of putting her knitting back into its bag once more. “Why are you up here, anyway?”

“I’ve never needed a reason to stroll through town before,” he said lazily, reaching up to adjust his hat again. Teo wondered if the movement was a conscious one, or if it was just something he did without thinking when he was trying his best to be a pain in the neck. “Did someone pass a new law while I was asleep?”

“So, you’re just enjoying the holiday sights, then?” Teo asked, ignoring his question, and got to her feet. When she stood, Mogens had to angle his head back to be able to look her in the face. He shrugged and replied,

“I’m too old and weathered to care about holiday.”

For a brief moment, Teo thought she saw the light in his eyes deaden, then the usual wicked twinkle was firmly back in place.

“Oh, but listen to me, blathering on. Don’t let me keep you from your business, now,” he said, not moving an inch from his leaning position.

“I won’t.”

When Teo left the house again a few minutes later, tugging on her coat and a hat, Mogens was still there, leaning his back against the railing and surveying the snowy lane.

“Are you procrastinating another package delivery to me or something?” Teo asked. She jumped the three stairs to land on the snow with a thump.

“Hm?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Hmmm… No, no, I don’t think it is.”

The boatman fell into step beside Teo as she headed toward the center of town, effortlessly keeping up with her stride.

“Never seen the town like this during Christmas,” he said abruptly, casting a look at their surroundings. “Every year it's always been the same thing. I almost miss the sound of cannon shots.” He looked unsettled for a moment, then his expression returned to its normal lazy smile. Shoving her hands deeper into her pockets, Teo watched her breath cloud into the air. She liked the sights and the feeling of general good will.

“I think it’s kinda nice.”

The shrug the boatman gave in response could have been described as noncommittal at most.

“Back on the mainland, we never really celebrated like this,” Teo continued, gesturing at the strings of Christmas lights. “People celebrated, sure, but it never felt like this. So I guess it is a bit weird, that the infamous town of Smeerensburg feels so… happy.”

It took a minute for Mogens to reply. He looked up, then slowly gazed around as they walked through the town square. Teo was ready to lapse back into comfortable silence when he finally exclaimed,

“Maybe we’ve all finally cracked!”

Teo stopped and stared at him, alarmed by the sudden change in demeanor. He posed theatrically and waggled his fingers in an attempt to illustrate what he meant, drawing disgusted stares from passing townspeople.

“You know, maybe we’ve all finally gone completely crackers and this is just a dream,” he continued, eyes wide. “We could both be dreaming!”

Reaching over the space between them, Teo gave a hard pinch to the bare skin showing under his jacket cuff.

“Ouch!”

He rubbed the spot and looked deeply injured while Teo let out her harsh, crackling laugh.

“I guess it’s not a dream, then,” she said once she’d caught her breath again. “Granted, I’ve had dreams that hurt before, so I guess we can’t be sure.”

“You have yet to strike me as a dreamer, miss Teodora, hurt or no,” Mogens said seriously. “In fact, sometimes you act so grounded, it’s like you have your head shoved deep into fresh, moist, garden dirt.”

Teo smothered a laugh.

“I take pride in being grounded, good sir,” she replied instead, adopting his grave tone. “Unlike you, we can’t all have such a whimsical outlook on life.”

It was Mogens’ turn to laugh, and he did so with gusto, the sound shaking his body as they walked.

“Whimsical outlook,” he repeated and wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “Me, having a whimsical outlook! Were you a comedian on the mainland?”

“I wasn’t, no, but thanks, I guess.”

Eventually, Teo reached her destination and pushed open the door to the Ellingboe bar, holding it for the boatman in an unspoken invitation. Mogens shrugged.

“You’re buying, right?” he asked as he passed by her, and she snorted again, earning her a glare from the woman strolling by.

She did end up buying him a drink, then another. They made jokes at each other’s expense and debated the best way to care for steam engines, a thing Teo knew little about, but she enjoyed poking and prodding him into a genuine conversation. She found that once he got going, he was very entertaining to listen to. His repertoire of dramatic expressions and speeches made her laugh to the point of tears, and once nearly made her spit beer onto the table. Relaxing, she watched him wave to the bartender for another refill.

_I would hardly say he’s attractive,_ she thought, considering his profile as he turned, waiting for his beer. His face was pale and wind chapped, nose large and red from the constant cold. Dark brown, slightly excessive sideburns curved away from the corners of his broad jaw, and a five o’ clock shadow covered the lower half of his face. Thick eyebrows of the same shade as his sideburns used his forehead as a stage for their performances, quirking up and down with impressively quick and precise movements while he talked. Though the dark shadows that surrounded his faintly drooping black eyes gave him a look of perpetual exhaustion, his eyes themselves were lively and twinkling. He grinned at the approaching bartender, displaying a set of slightly crooked teeth and a grin that was both infuriating and charming in equal measure.

_Definitely not conventionally, at least,_ Teo thought, grinning into her beer, _but I suppose he does make up for it with charm._

Eventually, Mogens finished his last drink and got up to go.

“Best of evenings to you, Teodora!” he said a little thickly, and left.

“I’ve never seen that man pay for his own drinks, not even once.”

The bartender, a huge man with classic Ellingboe-style ginger curls, had come over to collect Mogens’ empty tankards. He picked up the mugs and cast Teo a baleful look.

“Not sure how he manages it,” he continued. “At least he’s good business, one way or another.”

Sipping her drink, Teo considered the statement. _Good business, and not the worst company I’ve ever had,_ she thought, and drained the rest of her beer. _Absolutely not the worst._

The door to the bar swung open and a cold gust of air hit Teo’s back.

“Oh, welcome, miss Alva,” Caolán said. “The usual?”

“Please,” Alva said, sitting to Teo’s left. “Teaching children is lovely, but sometimes I need a break.” She turned to Teo and gave a tired smile.

“Hello, Teodora,” she said.

“Hello, miss Alva,” Teo replied. “Tough day?”

“Very,” Alva said with a sigh, leaning her elbows on the counter and pushing loose waves of honey-brown hair out of her face. “I like to come here to catch my breath, at least when I can afford to waste some time.”

Teo leaned on the counter, looking Alva over, then said,

“Drinking is never a waste of time, at least not according to my family.”

“Ellingboes,” Alva said with a shrug, and accepted her drink from the bartender. “Go figure.”

Chuckling at that, Teo relaxed. She’d seen Alva around town but had never actually spoken to her before. Alva was fun to talk to. She was clever, funny, and, as Teo began to realize, quite pretty.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Teo told her, sipping yet another shot of liquor. A faint pink blush rose in Alva’s cheeks.

“Thanks,” she replied. “Yours are pretty nice too.”

“Oh, shucks, they’re nothing special. You should see my cousin’s eyes, they’re like pieces of sky.”

They continued to talk for a while, until Caolán reminded them that it was getting late. Teo pushed herself up off her stool with a yawn.

“I’ll walk you home, if you’d like,” she said to the other woman, and offered her arm. Alva laughed and accepted.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

They walked toward Alva’s house, still animatedly discussing the best way to study the medicinal effects of Smeerensburg’s native plants. Teo stopped at the foot of the stairs that lead to Alva’s front door.

“Thank you for the lovely evening,” she said, bowing slightly as Alva let go of her arm.

“I don’t suppose… you’d like to come in?” Alva asked. She sounded hesitant, but her eyes were determined, and a faint smile teased the corners of her mouth, then she held out her hand. Teo grinned and took it, matching the surprisingly strong grip. Alva tugged her inside.


	5. Chapter 5

To anyone who asked her, Teo played up the story that she’d bruised her neck falling out of a tree. Jesper wanted to know if it had hurt; she told him no. Even Mogens tried to take a crack at her, asking whether or not she’d fought a vampire out in the woods.

“Oh, absolutely,” Teo replied. “We had a tumble in the snow, and it got me a few times before I managed to fight it off.”

Alva, who was just passing by, grinned broadly.

“Try garlic next time,” she said. “I’ve heard vampires hate garlic.”

Mogens looked from Teo’s expression to Alva’s retreating back, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“Top of the morning to you, Mogens,” Teo said, saluting before he could say anything else, and walked away.

She and Alva discussed it over another drink later that day, and agreed that though they’d had fun, they were moving in different directions in life and neither felt the need to make their escapade a routine. Teo left the bar, and her thoughts turned to Mogens. It had been a few days since she’d seen the boatman. Maybe she should see how he was doing.

The day before Christmas arrived, bringing snow. Large, crystalline flakes fell from the sky, coating the town with a blanket of white. Teo ate breakfast, then bundled up, stuffed her pockets with food and supplies, and clipped her axe to her belt. As much as she enjoyed Christmas, something was still making her uneasy, and she was going to go let off some steam in the woods. On her way out, she grabbed a final piece of bread and stuffed it into her mouth, then she left the house and circled around to the stable in their back yard. It took only a few minutes to care for her horse, then she saddle him and packed hay into a saddle bag. Accustomed to this routine, the animal stood and waited for her to mount up before setting off. He was a patient and steady animal, and knew Teo’s hand very well. She barely had to tug on the reins for him to turn in the direction of the road to the old toymaker’s house, deep in the forest.

“C’mon, old friend,” she whispered, nudging his sides with her heels. He didn’t need to be told twice; he moved into a steady walk. His hooves were muffled in the fresh snow. Before Teo knew it, the town had disappeared behind some rocky crags, and she finally let herself settle in for the long ride.

Several hours later, she climbed out of the saddle with a sigh, looking up at the toymaker’s house and workshop. She’d come to an agreement with the cranky man a few months beforehand; she could use his stable for a few hours if she used her own hay to feed her horse. She pulled the hay from the saddle bag and dropped it into the feeder, then taking only a brief minute to observe the flurry of activity in and around the workshop, she turned and fled into the woods.

Muffled silence settled around Teo as she moved further into the forest, her boots leaving tracks in the new snow. She kept her gaze a bit unfocused and wide, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything green. Instead, her eye was caught by a large, black lump stuck to the trunk of a birch tree. Looking up, she determined that the tree was still alive, which was good. The lump was just out of reach, but that didn’t stop Teo, who knew exactly what it was and wasn’t going to go home without it. Guessing that it would be pretty firmly attached, she unclipped her axe and gave it a deft flip so she gripped the base of the handle, then swung the tool up so the blade of the axe hit the lump with a soft thunk. She maneuvered the tool out of the lump and struck it three more times, then it separated from the tree trunk. Catching the lump before it hit the snow, she examined its carefully, then tucked it into her pocket and looked up again. Several other dark lumps were visible higher up on the trunk. Teo knew better than to try to get them, so she looked around to remember where the tree was, then moved on.

Hours passed. When she got hungry, she found a log to sit on and ate the food she’d packed, then continued to wander. She found three more clumps of the chaga mushroom on various different trees, and a single mistletoe plant in the branches of an ancient oak. It took her a while to collect the mistletoe, since she had to climb the tree to get to it, and she fell out several times into the snow. Cold yet triumphant, Teo returned to the toymaker’s stable as the sun began to descend toward the horizon.

Dutifully ignoring the bustle outside the workshop, Teo swung up into the saddle and urged her horse forward. The sun set as she rode toward town. She settled into a sort of mediation as dusk fell, only jerking into wary lucidity at the sound of approaching voices. An orange glow around the next bend was warning enough; she silently kicked her horse into a trot and veered into the woods, out of sight, then dismounted as quietly as she could and gripped the reins in one cold hand. The mob passed by without noticing the hoof prints that led to her hiding place. She sighed when they’d disappeared and led her horse back out onto the road, mounted up, and continued toward town, urging her horse to walk faster than before.

An hour or two later she made it home and stabled her horse, then went inside. Barely able to keep her eyes open, she unloaded her jacket and fell into bed. That night, she dreamed of a stocky young man who leaned on a ship’s railing, singing a raucous sea shanty into the night as waves crashed around him.

Teo woke the next morning with a stuffy nose, a headache, and a sore throat. Cursing furiously, she hauled herself up to give her mother the mittens she’d made, then climbed back into her bed. When she woke again, the weak sun was high in the sky. It took all the effort she had to get out of bed a second time and make a cup of tea. She knew it was Christmas Day, but she also knew better than to go traipsing around in the cold when she was getting sick. If she took care of herself, she would get better in a few days.

A few Ellingboe relatives dropped by with gifts over the course of the afternoon. Teo grudgingly met them and then went to sleep again. She slept through the night, and into the next day, waking only when her stomach began to cramp from lack of food.

“Serves me right for not changing out of my wet clothes when I got home from being out all day,” she grumbled, dropping sausages in a sizzling hot pan. Her mother tottered into the room and dropped into a kitchen chair.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” her mother said. “I was a bit worried about you.”

“No need to worry, mom,” Teo replied thickly, “it’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, keep resting, I can manage fine by myself for a few days.”

They ate breakfast, and Teo went back to bed yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can definitely imagine an alternate ending where Teo and Alva get together... but not this time


	6. Chapter 6

Mogens felt… odd. He had no idea what was going on, but something wasn’t sitting right with him. He shifted into a more comfortable reclining position and folded his hands over his chest, eyes drooping shut, but he couldn’t sleep. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Pushing himself up from his seat on someone’s front porch, he strolled down the stairs and out onto the street. Everywhere he looked, he saw children enjoying their new Christmas presents, and families spending time together.

“All because of one postman,” he muttered to himself. “Who would’ve thought.”

Something cramped under his ribs. He massaged the spot in absent annoyance, still thinking about Jesper. A big event had gone down on Christmas Eve, he knew, but he wasn’t sure of all the details. All he knew was that Jesper had chosen to stay on the island that night, and he had been radiating happiness since. Maybe that’s what was bothering him? He was still unsure, a feeling he very much disliked.

Reaching into his coat, he whisked out a battered, tarnished silver flask, unscrewed the top, and took a gulp of the contents. The liquid burned a delicious trail down his throat, a sensation as familiar as that of icy ocean air in his lungs. He took another drink, then closed the flask and turned it over in his hands, remembering the day he’d acquired it, then he shoved the memory away and shook his head.

_Keep the past in the past, old boy,_ he thought, slipping the flask back into his jacket pocket, _reminiscing won’t help you now… Or ever._

Frowning, he continued to walk through the town, drinking from his flask every now and then. It wasn’t until he passed by the Ellingboe bar that he realized what else his problem might be. He hadn’t seen hide nor ginger hair of Teodora for an entire week. Usually he saw her in passing at least once every few days, but for some reason she had been absent since the day before Christmas, when he’d seen her ride out of town early in the morning.

Before Teo had arrived in town, he’d lived comfortably enough, irritating the townspeople and keeping them at bay in one fell swoop. He didn’t care for the attachment that came along with other people, especially not the responsibilities that came along with having… friends. The only friends he’d ever really had didn’t even know he was still alive.

Shaking his head, he returned his thoughts to Teo. Her absence bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He supposed that he’d grown used to having someone around who could match his wit and return his casual jabs without losing their shit, unlike the postman. Usually, his jokes, pranks, and malicious humor kept people at a safe distance, but those things didn’t seem to have an effect on the half-Ellingboe woman. The cramp under his ribs twisted weirdly, and he swallowed, deeply uncomfortable. All this introspection was beginning to make his temples pound. He drained his flask and stowed it away, then headed for his boat. Maybe a trip to the mainland and back would help clear his head.

The gray light hurt Teo’s eyes as she stepped outside for the first time in over a week. Blinking hard, she looked blearily around the street, trying to remember what she’d left the house for.

_Post office,_ she thought, and began to walk in the proper direction. The cold air began to chill her face, and she pulled her scarf over her nose, wishing passionately that she could go back to sleep.

_I suppose I needed to leave the house at some point anyway,_ she mused, resigned, and pushed open the door to the post office. The inside looked a bit nicer than she remembered. Jesper certainly looked larger than her memory of him.

“Jesper?” she asked, then sneezed. The person turned, and Teo realized it wasn’t Jesper at all, but the reclusive toymaker, Klaus.

“Oh hello, Teodora,” Klaus said, smiling slightly at her shocked expression. “Jesper is still asleep. You need something?”

Teo stared at him for a minute, then held out her letter.

“Ordering herbs from the mainland,” she explained.

“Are you an herbalist?” Klaus asked, looking curious. Teo nodded.

“I can’t find many plants this type of year, so I need to get some from the mainland sometimes.”

“So, that’s why you like to wander around the woods,” Klaus murmured and put Teo’s letter in the proper box. “I did wonder…”

Jesper walked out of the back, wearing a nightshirt and a pair of slippers.

“Morning, Teo,” he managed through a yawn. “What’s going on?”

“Just trying to mail a letter,” Teo said. She eyed the pair suspiciously. “I didn’t know you were training an assistant.”

Jesper laughed, and Klaus smiled at him.

“Klaus is just helping me fix this place up,” Jesper admitted. “He’s a great woodworker, obviously.”

“That makes sense,” Teo said, then sneezed again.

“Bless you!” Klaus and Jesper said in unison.

Teo bid farewell to the two men and left the post office, digging for a handkerchief once she was outside. She swore, blew her nose, and swore again.

“Whiskey, then bed,” she mumbled, and headed toward the Ellingboe bar.

The relative warmth inside the bar hit her like a punch to the gut. She dropped into a seat at the counter and wheezed for a moment before she could catch her breath.

“What’ll you have, miss?” the bartender asked.

“Two shots of whatever whiskey you have,” she rasped.

“Not two minutes back from the dead and you’re already out for a drink?” a voice asked from behind her. “If you’re here to tell us that the afterlife isn’t fully stocked with booze, then I should leave, cause I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Ugh, Mogens,” Teo grumbled, “can’t you wait to start until I’ve had my whiskey at least?”

The boatman dropped down onto the chair next to her.

“Here I am, checking in on you, and this is the thanks I get?” he asked, feigning offense. “I thought you’d died, and I needed to come have a drink to mourn the loss.”

“Please, the only thing you’d mourn is the loss of another practice target,” Teo said with a dramatic sniff. She placed her hand over her heart in a gesture of mock sincerity, then the bartender slid her two shots of whiskey across the counter. The first shot disappeared in one swift movement, then she pushed the other toward Mogens.

“Can’t exactly drink by myself,” she said with a wry smile. “I’d feel just a bit too cruel. Two more shots, please.”

The liquor began to warm her stomach as she watched the bartender pour more whiskey into the shot glasses. Her ears didn’t catch the sound of Mogens tipping back his own shot, but it was empty when she turned to look at him. He grinned crookedly. The expression was normal for him, though his eyes weren’t twinkling in their usual manner. Accepting more drinks from the bartender, Teo took the first and slid the second one to Mogens again.

“Something bothering you?” she asked. The boatman didn’t answer at first, choosing to finish his whiskey before anything else, then he looked into the empty shot.

“No,” he finally said, in a very unconvincing, falsely innocent tone. “Why would something be bothering me? Nothing bothers me.”

“Dunno, I was just curious,” Teo replied, then sneezed into her elbow. _Whiskey, then bed_ , she reminded herself, and fished in her pocket for her money.

“Not this time,” Mogens said, waving a lazy hand in her direction. He pulled a handful of money out of his jacket and slapped it down on the counter.

“This should be more than enough, Caolán, and keep the change,” he said, beaming up into the bartender’s astonished face. He stood, and walked out of the bar, kicking the door open with the ease of long practice. Teo shared a confused glance with the bartender, then followed him at a trot.

“That wasn’t entirely necessary,” Teo said once she’d caught up to him.

“It wasn’t, was it?” Mogens asked. He glanced at her from the corners of his half-lidded eyes. “But I did it anyway. I gotta spend my fortune somehow.”

Teo couldn’t tell if he was serious, or just having yet another laugh at her expense.

“Anyway, you can consider it a belated Christmas present, I suppose,” he concluded.

“If you say so.” 

She was suspicious of his motives, but she could always appreciate free drinks.

“Oh, I do,” Mogens replied, adjusting his hat. “I do indeed.”

He left her at her house with a cheery, “don’t you go and die on me, now!” and wandered off in the direction of the harbor. A bit bewildered, Teo went inside, flopped down onto her bed, and sleep took her in an instant.

Mogens waited until after Teo had gone inside to stop and turn, contemplating the smoke that rose in puffs from a house nearby. He hated being introspective, but sometimes it just snuck up on him without warning.

_How had she known,_ he wondered bitterly. Before he realized it, the silver flask was in his hand and on its way to his lips. The liquid burned, but he didn’t feel the usual warmth; instead, he felt cold. No one ever noticed when he wasn’t feeling himself, he was too good at hiding it. Or at least he’d thought he was. _I can’t believe she saw through me,_ he thought and drank again.

He’d been preoccupied since Christmas; Jesper wouldn’t get out of his head. The man’s face floated mockingly in his mind’s eye when he slept. He would wake, and the first face he’d think of would be Jesper’s. Though he’d guessed what would happen between the postman and the toymaker, Klaus, he couldn’t stop what had begun inside him. Ice had grown in the pit in his chest, freezing what he felt for the man. When Jesper had been about to leave the island… it had been like the tight ball of ice in his chest had cracked, and the shards were both melting and digging into his guts at the same time. It hurt. Absentmindedly rubbing the spot that ached, he stared at the town without seeing it.

_But Teo_ had _noticed,_ a part of him whispered, the part he wanted to repress, crush without mercy. She had seen that his mind was elsewhere, and she’d asked if something was bothering him. _No one ever notices_ , his brain hissed, _no one cares enough to notice._ Grimacing, he stowed the flask back in its pocket and began to walk down the hill toward the harbor, still thinking.

Teo was a bit of a strange one. Even after he’d done his best to be irritating and snarky to her, she’d simply taken it and thrown it right back at him, without holding a grudge. She’d also willingly shared booze with him without being tricked into doing so, and that was a good trait to possess, at least in Mogens’ opinion. When she grinned at him, a small dimple appeared in her right cheek… If Jesper was ice in his chest, Teo reminded him of… a warm, sunny day, when he once, younger in body and freer of mind, had leaned on the rail of a creaking ship and sung a song to the open, endless sea. He’d felt that same warmth hit the ice under his ribs as she’d pushed the first shot toward him across the rough wood of the counter, and the heat had continued to spread.

Frowning, he continued to stroll through the town. Maybe the alcohol _was_ finally getting to him.


	7. Chapter 7

Two days later, Teo had fully recovered from her cold, and was feeling a little stir-crazy. She needed to get outside for a while. After grabbing waxed pants, three pairs of socks, a sweater, her jacket, her boots, and a hat, she was nearly ready. The last thing she needed was sitting on her bedside table. It was tucked safely down the front of her jacket in the blink of an eye.

“Don’t catch another cold!” her mother called as Teo jogged out of the house.

“I won’t,” she called back, and headed to the stable where she saddled her horse. “C’mon, old friend, let’s go on an adventure.”

Instead of heading east and then northeast as she would to get to Klaus’ house, she turned her horse northward. She stopped at the edge of town, having seen what looked like a large lump with feet on someone’s porch, and slid out of the saddle.

“Wait here a moment,” she murmured, patting his neck, then walked slowly up to the porch. She was in luck; Mogens appeared to be in a true, deep sleep, instead of the cat naps he took during the day, and he didn’t stir as she climbed the few steps, pulling the lumpy package out of her jacket, then she placed it as carefully as she could on his rising and falling stomach. Retreating quietly, she made it back to her horse and swung up into the saddle. She didn’t like kindnesses, however small, to go unheeded. He’d given her a gift by paying for her drinks, so she had reciprocated the good will.

After the last house in town, it only took about ten minutes for Teo to find the spot she’d been looking for. She dismounted, gave her horse a treat, and told him to stay put, then climbed up the steep slope to her left.

This was one of her favorite spots to wander around. It was a very large figure-eight-shaped plateau, wider on one end than the other. The area was forested, but not too thickly, and Teo wandered through the trees toward the place where she could just barely see the ocean through the branches. She’d come her enough times that she thought she might be able to make the walk in her sleep. Counting the last few steps, she stopped at the edge of the plateau and stared out into the endless sea, now clearly visible below her. From her vantage point, she could also see the tiny uninhabited island that was the northernmost part of Smeerensburg, and it’s minuscule companion island to its west.

Standing there, Teo filled her lungs with the chilly air and let out her best raucous, if scratchy, yell. A few birds burst from the treetops and flew away, shrieking their protests. The sound she’d made vanished into the vast emptiness before her, fading to nothing in moments.

“ _Ah, for just one time_ ,” she began, the first clear notes of the folk song ringing through her head and out into the crystal-clear view. She sang until she was hoarse, her throat protesting so much activity so soon after getting over a cold. After that, she meandered around through the trees for a while, then returned to her horse. He was exactly where she’d left him.

When she entered town again, Mogens was still asleep on the same porch, but the package she’d left him was gone. Instead, she could see the end of a thick, dark red scarf poking out from around his neck. Warmth spread through her stomach and she grinned, pleased that he seemed to like her gift, at least enough to put it on. It had, after all, taken her all the previous day and part of the night to knit the thing, though she’d spun and dyed the yarn weeks before. It was like he’d accepted a piece of her. That idea made her grimace and urge her horse into a trot, away from the porch where Mogens slept.

It became apparent, once she’d returned home, that they were running out of firewood. She spent the rest of the day splitting rounds in the snowy back yard, working until her back and arms ached with the strain. As soon as dusk fell, she stopped and stacked what she’d split in a neat pile by the back door, then went inside to make dinner.

Another three weeks went by before Teo’s herbs arrived. When they finally did, she busied herself with preparing them and making salves and tea mixes for a few days, then she figured it was once again time to get outside. She had a few closely related cousins that she liked in town, so she decided to go visit them as a change of pace. It only took a minute to bundle up, then she jogged down the street toward their house.

“Riaghail! Éignach! Up and at em!” Teo bawled. Immediate uproar followed her yell, and a moment later two large men spilled out the door and onto the snowy lawn. The first jumped up immediately and grabbed Teo in a friendly headlock. She wriggled free and kicked his legs out from under him, then narrowly avoided a tackle from the second of the two, causing him to land on top of his brother.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Teo!” Riaghail said with a laugh, trying in vain to shove his brother off his legs.

“We saw her last week, ya nitwit!” Éignach replied with lazy good humor, and pushed himself to his feet, brushing the snow off his front. “Ya know ma always says think before ye open yer trap.”

Teo snorted and pulled Riaghail to his feet.

“And you two are still numbskulls,” she said, grinning at them both.

Riaghail was five inches taller than Teo, and thin as a rail. His legs and arms were absurdly long, giving him the look of someone who’d been washed and hung out to dry on a clothesline, then been left there for much too long. He had a long, pointy face that quite resembled Teo’s, with sparkling blue eyes, a long thin nose, and a wide, smiling mouth. His flamingly ginger hair stuck out in its usual bushy disaster that no known force in the world could tame. Short, ginger sideburns accented his jawline. He grinned, and his eyebrows rose comically on his forehead, arching perfectly over each eye.

Éignach, his brother, was nearly as tall as him and about three times as wide. He had the same long nose and ginger hair, tied back into two stubby pigtails that poked out at odd angles. Unlike his brother, Éignach let his facial hair grow into a thick mustache and mutton chops that framed his mouth and very square chin. His eyes were warm brown, not blue like Riaghail’s, but they sparkled in the same mischievous way. He was also missing a tooth, knocked out in some brawl when he was younger.

Both brothers had the pale, freckled skin of the Ellingboe family, but both had uncharacteristically friendly dispositions for Ellingboes. They were also both a fair number of years younger than Teo, Riaghail having just barely turned 26 while Éignach was going on 28.

“Right,” Teo began, rubbing her hands together, “do you guys have plans today, or are you ready to hear my proposition?”

Both men perked up and shared an excited glance.

“It’s been too quiet around here since Christmas,” Riaghail complained. Éignach nodded.

“Well then, let’s do something about that, shall we?”

They marched in the direction of the Ellingboe bar, talking animatedly about what they’d gotten into since Teo had last come around to visit. Since the family feud was more or less over, Teo’s cousins had resorted to finding other ways to make mischief.

“We can’t mess with the Krums the same way anymore,” Riaghail told Teo, linking his long arm through hers. “We still do, but we gotta be careful we don’t step on too many toes, what with the upcoming wedding and all.”

“Damn, I forgot about that,” Teo said. “Who’d have thought Pumpkin would ever tie the knot?”

She linked her other arm with Éignach’s, and asked him,

“Do you guys even know where your nice clothes are?”

“I think my last nice shirt were lost t’ a snowman last winter,” he replied. He chuckled at the memory. “Suppose we’ll have ta dig in da’s old bins fer something t’ wear.”

“That’ll be fun!” Riaghail said to him, over Teo’s head. “Remember the old bloomers we found last time?”

They dissolved into fits of cawing laughter.

“Anyway, we can still mess with our own relatives, and that ferryman,” Riaghail finally said. A weird jolt registered in Teo’s midriff at the words.

“He is fun ta mess with, and he don’t really get mad over anything,” Éignach agreed.

“Except that one time…”

“With the flask?”

“Yeah, the silver one.”

“He did get kinda pissed about that, didn’t he?”

Teo interrupted their flow of thought by asking,

“A flask? What happened?”

The brothers shared a look.

“Riaghail were practicing picking pockets, ya know, for a laugh, not t’ actually take stuff,” Éignach said, shrugging. “Well, that ferryman is always sleeping somewhere, so we figured he were a good target ta practice on. He were a lighter sleeper than we thought.”

“I had just pulled a metal flask out of one of his pockets when he grabbed my wrist,” Riaghail continued. “For a man with such a lazy lifestyle, he has a shockingly powerful grip.”

Teo snorted.

“What did he do then?” she asked.

“Nearly bowled Riag head o’er heels inta the snow,” Éignach said with a jovial chuckle. “It were like seeing a cat get caught at the milk. Scared him shitless, it did.”

“Of course it did!” Riaghail reached over Teo and cuffed his brother on the back of the head. “I wasn’t expecting him to explode! It’s the only time I’ve ever seen him get angry.”

“T’were a bit scary,” Éignach admitted, rubbing the spot that Riaghail had just smacked.

Just before they reached the door to the bar, it swung open.

“Speak of the Devil,” Teo muttered into her scarf.

Mogens strode outside, then stopped short. His expression changed rapidly from surprise to disgust, then to annoyance, before settling into sleepy neutrality in the blink of an eye. He dragged his widest, toothiest grin from somewhere far away and plastered it across his face.

“Ah, everything suddenly makes so much sense,” he said, exaggerated understanding saturating every word, and tucked his hands into his coat pockets. Every curved and sloped line of his form seemed to radiate a strange mixture of mock cheerfulness and bitter contempt. Teo noticed with a jolt that he was still wearing the scarf she’d made for him.

“Of course you’re related to these two,” he continued, and met her gaze. “It’s all coming together. Why am I surprised?”

The glitter in his black eyes was different than usual, almost angry. Resisting the urge to shiver, Teo shrugged instead, looking away from Mogens’ face and up at Riaghail.

“I can’t help it,” she said, winking at her cousin. “I’ve always been related to them, ever since I was born.”

Riaghail let out a cackle of laughter while his brother guffawed. Teo chuckled along, then turned back to Mogens and was surprised to catch a brief flash of badly disguised dislike on his features. A moment later, his trademark grin slid back into place. His eyes narrowed as he looked them over.

“Well, don’t have too much fun,” he finally said, and walked by them without another glance. His words hung in the air, as if he’d delivered them as a warning and not as a friendly goodbye.

Teo shook her head, making her braids flap, then ushered her cousins into the bar. She could stay up later pondering what had made the usually imperturbable boatman act so stiff, but right now, they had business to attend to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics used from Northwest Passage by Stan Rogers


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood warning for this chapter, and things get a bit more interesting...

They didn’t stay long at the bar; three shots each and they set out on the path toward mischief. Riaghail and Éignach had made up a sport during the peak of the clan feuding that they called, “Smeerensburg bowling”, and they’d taken Teo with them several times before. A special sled with several pillows tied to the front served as the “bowling ball”, but as for the pins… Well, the pins were anyone unlucky enough or not fast enough to make it out of the way in time.

The three retired a few hours later, soaked, freezing, and bruised, but very pleased with their day’s work. Riaghail had the high score for the day, with Teo in second and Éignach in third. During a particularly wild tumble they’d taken, something hard (Teo suspected the back of Éignach’s head) had smacked into her thrice-broken nose, causing a crimson stream of blood to begin flowing down over Teo’s mouth and chin. She prodded it gingerly as she walked back home, feeling a very slight grating that told her it was most likely fractured a little. That meant swelling, probably a black eye or two, and a few weeks of tenderness, if she was careful.

She stopped on the side of the lane and gritted her teeth, then made sure the bridge of her nose was still as straight as it could be. Once that was done, she stooped, scooped up a handful of snow, and pressed it carefully to the place that hurt the most. Wincing, she continued to apply the snow as she finished her walk home.

When she arrived back home, it was time for a nap. It was evening when she woke again. A throbbing in her nose reminded her of the morning’s activities as she got up and started preparing dinner.

“Oh, Teodora,” her mother said with pity, reaching out to gently touch the skin under her right eye. “It’s broken again?”

“Sledding accident,” Teo replied. The swelling in her nose made her voice sound a bit more stuffed up than usual, which amused her mother. She seemed to be feeling better that she had been lately, and even helped Teo finish making dinner.

After they ate, Teo bundled up once more.

“Going out again?” her mother asked from the next room. “Be safe!”

“I always am,” Teo replied, tugging the door open. Her head felt a little fuzzy, but she didn’t want to be inside. Letting her brain turn off for a while, she allowed her feet to carry her in whichever direction they wanted to go. When she checked in again, she was standing on the dock, staring out at the darkening ocean. She sat.

The wind blew gently around her, a surprisingly mild temperature for late January, and she breathed it in, grateful it didn’t hurt her lungs. The boat creaked nearby. Teo closed her eyes.

She thought about their encounter with Mogens earlier that day. She’d never seen him make so many different, or such nasty, faces before. He was usually so careful to maintain his sarcastic front that it was rare to see anything slip out between the cracks. It was almost like a shield he clutched close to his body, a diamond-hard shell that almost nothing could break through. Even her best insults only seemed to startle him at best, if they affected him at all.

_I wonder what’s under there,_ Teo thought aimlessly, looking vaguely up into the starless sky. _Shields like that almost always exist for a reason._ She frowned. _Maybe it’s covering the remains of a battlefield… or something._

“If you’re thinking about jumping, it’s always better to just go on and get it over with. I’ll count for you, here. One, two...”

Teo started in surprise and whipped around, nearly toppling into the water. Her eyes watered from the pain of joggling her tender nose, so she couldn’t quite make out the face of the person who addressed her, but the voice was unmistakable.

“‘M not jumping in,” she said thickly. “There’s ‘bout a million better ‘n faster ways t’ die, I’d rather do one o’ those’ns.”

The shadowy figure bent down a few inches to get a better look at her.

“Well, well, well,” Mogens drawled. “Am I invited?”

“Invited t’ what?”

“The wedding, of course! It looks like I missed your engagement, but you must have gotten _very_ up close and personal with whatever did… that,” he said, gesturing at her face. “I’d imagine you’d need to get married pretty quick after an encounter of that particular nature.”

Scowling, she reached up, then remembered it would hurt to touch and stopped herself.

“Which one is it this time?” she asked. Mogens thrust his hands into his pockets.

“Hmm I can’t quite tell… look up into the light again.”

Teo blinked and inclined her head.

“What do we have here?” he asked, grinning crookedly. “Double sunrises, as pretty as can be.”

“Both of them?” Teo moaned. She tried to cover her face without bumping her nose. “Why does it have t’ be both?”

“You look like a raccoon I saw on the mainland once,” Mogens said. He chuckled softly, then surprised Teo by plopping down next to her on the dock.

“Should I be offended?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, no, you shouldn’t.”

Teo gulped. His body radiated heat like a small furnace. It was the first time she’d been so physically close to the ferryman, and the potent scent of salt, smoke, sweat, and strong alcohol emanating from his clothes sent a shiver over her skin. A long, liquid pull in her stomach made her choke a little and gasp, then cough. That hurt, a lot. Her eyes watered and she coughed again.

“Easy there,” Mogens said, and clapped her on the back. “Last thing you need is bruised lungs to match those black eyes of yours.”

The back-clapping didn’t help Teo at all, in fact the touch sent further chills down her spine. Gasping for breath, she waved him off and tried to will away the heat rising into her face.

“You know what might help?” she managed eventually, and fixed a streaming eye on Mogens’ closest jacket pocket. “Booze. Any on you?”

“What do you take me for? Some sort of drunken vagabond? I’m insulted!” he exclaimed, the picture of indignance, but in spite of that, he reached inside his coat and withdrew a large, brown glass bottle that sloshed with his movements. Teo sighed with longing. Chuckling, Mogens popped the cork from the bottle and drank deeply, then offered it to Teo, and she muttered thanks and tipped it back. The brew was blessedly strong and spicy in her mouth, searing a track straight into her stomach. She took another drink, then handed the bottle back, noticing the red scarf still wrapped around his neck.

“Where on earth d’you get that stuff?” she asked, jerking her head toward the bottle. He pursed his lips.

“That’s my carefully guarded secret,” he replied. “Can’t find it anywhere on this island.”

“That narrows the search down a lot. I guess your secret isn’t so well-guarded anymore,” Teo said sardonically.

Mogens laughed. The sound was warm, deep, and a bit scratchy, and it was the most genuine laugh she’d ever heard him make. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

“Care for another swig?” Mogens asked, and offered her the bottle again. She accepted and drank.

_I really AM attracted to him, aren’t I,_ she thought wildly, handing the liquor back. The effortless way the boatman tipped the bottle back was testament to long and dedicated practice. Teo couldn’t help herself; her eyes slid over the line of his arm and down the curve of his neck. She shivered, despite the alcohol warming her blood, the heat spreading right down to the tips of her fingers and toes.

“Why so nice all of a sudden, Mogens?” she asked, abruptly suspicious. “It’s so _unlike_ you.”

He laughed again, shaking the dock with his mirth. It took him a few seconds to lapse into chuckles, then he turned and gave her his best crooked grin. Her heart stuttered.

“Whatever could’ve given you that impression? I’m the pinnacle of niceness!”

It was her turn to snort with laughter, then she winced as her nose throbbed in protest.

“Ah, ah,” Mogens chastened, and pushed the bottle back into her hands with a mocking wink, “we can’t have that now. This is a magical cure-all, and I promise you, if you get enough of it into your system, that nose won’t bother you a bit.”

“Cause I’ll be too drunk to care,” Teo finished for him, but she drank again anyway.

The level of liquid in the bottle dropped steadily. Teo could hold her alcohol well enough, but it was clear that Mogens was a professional. By the time half the bottle was gone, Teo was on her way to being fully drunk, but the ferryman seemed only tipsy. They talked on and off, sometimes just passing the bottle back and forth in comfortable silence. The pain in Teo’s nose did subside eventually, along with most of her usual daily worries and any remnants of cold she had felt, and liquid gold filled her veins.

“Oh, I wanted to say thanks for the scarf,” Mogens said, breaking their longest silence yet. “It’s nice.”

Teo jumped and swiveled to meet his twinkling gaze, surprised and pleased that he’d guessed it had been from her.

“You think it was me?” she asked. She did her best to sound innocent, but her drunk acting skills were not up to par, and he could clearly see right through them.

“You’re the finest spinner in this entire wretched town, mistress Teodora,” Mogens said soulfully. “I could tell immediately.” He paused, then he smirked and added,

“I’m blessed to have your stunning handiwork gracing my lowly, grimy neck.”

He raised the bottle into the air in an unstable toast, then leaned back and downed an impressive amount of the stuff inside. Laughing, Teo reached over to tug the alcohol out of his hands.

“Shameless flattery will get you nowhere,” she informed him. “I’m immune.”

The glass felt almost too warm under her fingers as she lifted the bottle to her mouth, belying her words. The nearness of the man hit her again. _He was so close…_

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look away from his profile and back out into the darkness. This was _Mogens_ she was thinking about. He was nasty, sarcastic, unbathed, and kept his distance from everyone, including her. That didn’t explain his nearness now, but she ignored that thought and pushed the bottle back into his hands.

“I’m drunk,” she announced, “and you were right, I can’t feel my nose anymore. At all. Is this stuff poisoned or something?”

“Oh, it’s poison alright,” he said cheerfully. “Of the best kind.”

Corking the bottle, Mogens pushed himself to his feet.

“Care for the midnight tour of my boat?” he asked, extending a hand to her. After a brief pause, she took it and let him haul her up. For someone who complained of a bad back, he was absurdly strong, and lifted her with ease.

“Why not,” Teo replied, shoving her hands into her pockets in an attempt to resist grabbing him by the jacket collar and—

“We should be fast asleep, you know, dreaming away in our warm, soft beds. C’mon, I bet if we look we can find more booze somewhere,” Mogens said, and he led Teo onto the boat.

More booze was indeed located, and quickly disposed of. Teo lost track of how much she’d had, she just kept drinking when it was passed to her. She also lost track of their conversation for the most part, at least for a while.


	9. Chapter 9

“Why d’you hate my cousins?” she asked, words slurred together as she lay on her back on the floor of the boat, looking up into the night. “They didn’t mean to piss you off.”

A few beats of silence was her only answer, then Mogens sighed. He too was lying flat on his back, a few inches to her right, staring into the sky. Teo could hear the booze in his voice as he said,

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He paused for a moment, then drew a deep breath. “…Do you want a real answer, miss Teodora? Or is that just the grog asking?”

He reached up, arm extended, and made as if to grab a handful of the clouds that covered the stars, acting so uncharacteristically sentimental that Teo blinked.

“Why else would I ask?” she asked. She shifted a little to get a better look at his silhouette, and his arm dropped back to his side. He sighed windily.

“Have you… ever met a person that reminds you so much of yourself when you were younger that it… hurts to look at their mug?”

His voice was abnormally gentle, yet the words carried a punch of sadness so strong that it took Teo’s breath away. She turned back to the black sky, wrestling with her urge to reach over and comfort him in any way she could.

“I can’t say that I have,” she finally said, keeping her words soft. “Though I guess that does make sense.” Pausing, she took a breath as the world spun around her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Another beat of silence.

“I didn’t have to answer, now, did I?” Mogens drawled, sounding more like his usual self, and Teo sighed with relief.

“I suppose not.”

They descended into silence again, each contemplating their own thoughts.

“Why did you come to Smeerensburg?” Mogens asked from the darkness beside Teo. She blinked, then said,

“My mother needed help around the house. My father died a few years ago, so I was living alone anyway. Plus, I kinda wanted to come here, since mother had written so much about it. She was one of the only people who ever actually used the postal service, when there was anything that resembled one.”

“You wanted to come here?”

Mogens sounded incredulous. He turned his head, eyes wide, and stared at her as if she’d just confessed to a heinous crime. She shrugged, her jacket catching slightly on the rough floor of the boat.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“You’re sure full of questions tonight,” Teo commented. She ran her hands through her mane of hair and thought about her answer.

“I’m always full of questions,” Mogens mumbled, interrupting her thoughts. “I just usually don’t ask them. Sometimes the answers aren’t worth the effort.”

“Do you want _my_ answer then, or not?”

“I’m still listening, aren’t I?” he replied.

Teo sat up, waited for the world to stop spinning, then felt around her legs for a bottle. Only cold iron met her fingertips.

“Tell me we’re not out,” she said with a groan. “I thought there was another bottle.”

Mogens fished around in his coat, pulled out a flask that sparkled faintly in the dark, and held it out to her.

“Now,” he said as she unscrewed the silver cap, “why on earth did you want to come here, of all places?”

Teo tipped the flask back two times before answering.

“I came here once, when I was six. My father wanted to visit my mother, to discuss whether or not she could take me off his hands.” She drank again, then continued. “They fought about it for a whole day, which left me nothing to do but wander around the town. I loved it.”

Teo handed the flask back to Mogens and sighed, enjoying the looseness of her muscles and the lightness in her chest that the alcohol caused.

“It was beautiful, despite the clan feuding,” she continued. “The freezing ocean, the snowy town… I didn’t mind the mainland, but it felt… different. I didn’t care about it at all.”

“And your parents?” Mogens prodded. Teo grimaced.

“My mother couldn’t afford to take me, and my father didn’t want to have to deal with me, but he admitted defeat after that argument and took me back to the mainland. I got letters from my mother every once in a while, but she never had enough means to have me come live with her until just recently, and she wanted my help with the house, if I was willing. So, here I am.”

A minute of quiet stretched between them. Teo flopped down again, her head pleasantly fuzzy and unfocused.

“Don’t you resent that?”

“Not really.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. Well, at least I’m too polite to ask for your story,” she told Mogens. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t tell me anyway. Plus, I can hardly think at this point.”

The boatman chuckled, though the sound had a bitter note.

“It’s not the night for my tale,” he replied. “Though it is a rollicking one. But, since I’m having such a nice evening so far, I wouldn’t want to ruin it for both of us.”

“That’s settled then,” Teo said, trying to stifle a yawn. “I’ll meet you in the dueling ground when I want to know, and then I can attempt to beat it out of you.”

“I used to be a wrestling champion,” Mogens drawled, “I could take you any day.”

Teo yawned again, wider this time.

“We shall see.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Teo gets a little angry...
> 
> wheeeee~~~

“— _And the main truck carried off both me legs! Goddamn them all, I was told_ —”

The boisterous notes of an old sea shanty woke Teo from a deep, dreamless, nearly comatose sleep. Her head pounded like someone was taking a hammer and nails to the inside of her skull. Opening her eyes, she saw only darkness with tiny stars poking through.

Suddenly, her bed bounced. She shot upright with a gasp, and the blanket that had been covering her face flew off.

“Where—?” she asked groggily.

“— _Been six years since we sailed away, and I just made Halifax yesterday_ —”

The loud singing drove daggers into her ears, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

“Mogens?” she croaked and peered blearily through swollen eyes in the direction she thought the noise was coming from.

“Good morning to you, miss Teodora!” Mogens called in a disgustingly cheerful voice. “It’s a beautiful day to rise and shine!”

Moaning as her body protested, Teo got unsteadily to her feet to investigate her surroundings. She was on the boat, but the dock was nowhere in sight. The last thing she could remember was telling Mogens why she’d wanted to come to Smeerensburg, then it all went fuzzy. When she looked down, she saw that the deep red scarf she’d made for the boatman had somehow found its way around her own neck.

“Mogens,” she said, voice quiet, “where are we?”

“About an hour or so from the mainland, I recon,” he replied. He adjusted his hat. “Why do you ask?”

Teo whirled around, crimson with anger. The fact that she had never been much of a morning person added to the vicious headache that throbbed behind her eyes made for a very hot-tempered response. Covering the distance between them in three strides, Teo spun the ferryman around and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him nearly off his feet so she could look him straight in the eye.

“Why,” she hissed, the heat of her fury chasing away any remaining chill in her body, “didn’t you wake me up? Don’t you think I might have things I need to do today? _Back home?_ ”

Mogens looked back at her, eyes innocently wide, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was practically hanging in midair.

“I tried, but you wouldn’t wake up. In fact, you seemed almost dead until a minute ago,” he said, lifting his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug.

“Then why didn’t you just dump my corpse on the dock?” Teo snarled, then dropped him with a thump and stalked furiously back across the deck. She resisted the urge to jump into the icy water and face hypothermia and certain death purely out of spite, and gripped the rail.

It took several minutes for her to regain a hold on her temper, and by the time she had it under a semblance of control, they had arrived on the mainland. Teo leaped from the boat almost before it touched the dock and sprinted down the road, figuring that a run might help her cool off. It did, a little, but it did nothing to help her hangover. She stopped out of sight of the harbor, leaned on her knees, and gasped for air. Did she even have a right to be so angry? It was sort of her fault for falling asleep on his boat, but he still could’ve probably rolled her onto the dock. Now she had to wait several hours to get back home.

_I don’t_ really _have anything pressing to do today,_ she admitted to herself, still wheezing with the effort to draw breath. _I guess this isn’t the end of the world._ Straightening up, she turned around to face the direction from she’d come from, then she paused, remembering the scarf she now wore. Giving in to her instincts, she took a moment and buried her face in the wool to inhale the scent of whiskey, salt, and the boatman himself that now permeated the garment. Then she began to walk back.

“Do you live here?” she asked, stopping in front of the ferryman’s shack and gesturing at the rickety building. Mogens, who had just settled into his chair, looked up at her with his eyebrows raised.

“Here?” he said, looking around the tiny space. “How would I eat? More importantly, how would I sleep?”

“With your feet up on the door like you had them when I first arrived,” Teo replied. Her annoyance stirred.

“Oh, I remember.”

He grinned at her and swung his feet up, crossing his legs as they rested on the door’s edge. “Like this?”

“Yes, like that.”

“Hmm.”

He closed his eyes, seemingly thinking, but the seconds ticked by and he still hadn’t answered her first question.

“Mogens!” she snapped. He jumped and looked at her, then carefully adjusted his cap.

“Yes?”

Teo wilted under his curious gaze, the fight leaving her like a puff of hot air. She kicked the door gently with the toe of her boot, and said,

“Let me in.”

He stared up at her for a moment, then slowly took his legs off the door and straightened to pull the door open so she could squeeze in past him. She paused, undid the scarf she still wore, and haphazardly wound it around Mogen’s face, against his muffled protests. Then, she brushed snow and dirt from a spot on the floor before dropping her rump onto the clean area.

“Aren’t you hungover? How are you acting so… normal?” she asked him, rubbing her temples with cold fingers. A moment later, a hand entered her vision, offering her a dented and tarnished silver flask.

“Hair of the dog, miss Teodora,” Mogens replied. He tucked his scarf back into place and waved grandly at a vision only he could see. “How else are you supposed to properly climb the rigging after a long night of debauchery? Without it, I’d most certainly be dead by now. Hmm...”

He waited for her to accept the flask, then his eyes closed without further explanation. It was heavier than it had been the night before. She suspected that the boatman has restocked his supply as she slept.

Time passed. Mogens snoozed while Teo sipped from the flask, wishing that she could get some breakfast. Her headache lessened slightly, though it didn’t disappear. She considered the flask while she waited, wondering where the boatman had managed to acquire such an object, and upon further inspection, she found the numbers 925 stamped into the metal at its base.

_Real silver_ , she thought, impressed. _This could be worth a decent amount. I wonder why he hasn’t sold it._

A loud knock startled her out of her contemplation.

“Delivery!” someone said, sounding impatient. After a moment of no response, the person knocked again.

“Wake up!”

Mogens snorted loudly and seemed to surface from his nap, though Teo guessed that he’d really woken at the first knock.

“Oh, hello, good sir! Something nice for me today?” he inquired, pushing himself up and out of his chair.

“Packages bound for Smeerensburg, as always.”

The boatman paused in the middle of opening the door and looked over his shoulder at Teo.

“You don’t want to miss out on the fun, do you?”

Scowling, she got up and followed him outside. He somehow managed to coerce her into helping carry things onto the boat, then they set out again. Teo walked over to the open cabin returned the half-empty flask to the boatman.

“Thanks,” she said. Mogens gave her his signature crooked grin and pocketed it.

“No,” he replied, “I think I should thank you instead. It’s been too long since someone swept me off my feet, and I very much enjoyed the experience.”

A hot flush crept into Teo’s cheeks at his words, and she tugged her scarf tighter around her neck.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“No need. A little danger adds some spice to everyday life, don’t you think? And those eyes of yours are splendid close up.”

Mogens chuckled as, remembering the state of her face, Teo groaned and flopped down onto a nearby crate, embarrassed that she’d already forgotten what had happened just the day before. Her nose still ached, but it wasn’t bad enough to really bother her. Feeling defeated, she turned with a sigh and surveyed the ocean around them, watching chunks of ice float by as they moved through the water.

Teo drowsed until they reached Smeerensburg once more, then helped Mogens secure the mooring lines. She was about to turn and go when the ferryman stopped her with an outstretched hand.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he said, grinning wickedly and pointing toward the packages in the back of the boat. Teo inhaled sharply. The rush of her earlier anger returned in full force, filling her ears with white noise. She took one step forward, reached out and grabbed him by the collar once more, then dragged him toward her. Their faces were so close that they nearly touched noses, and she could see every stubbly whisker, every wrinkle and line, and smell the reek of alcohol on his breath…

“You’ve got serious guts,” she murmured, her anger mixing with a different feeling and pooling in her stomach. “First you drag me all the way to the mainland, then you make me help you load the damn boat, and now, you think I’m going to deliver—”

She sucked in a deep breath, and suddenly, she wanted to laugh. Mogens’ eyes were half-lidded, and his mouth quirked in the satisfied way that told her he was having way too much fun, like he was sure she was going to blow up again and storm off as she had earlier. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the cheek, then let go of his collar and stepped back.

“I’ll get Jesper for you after I eat something,” she said, and strode hastily away up the hill.

Mogens stood stock still in her wake, eyes wide with astonishment, and didn’t move for quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics used from Barrett's Privateers by Stan Rogers


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Mogens is a bit naughtier than usual, and starts something that he won't be able to stop...

“Teo, what gives?”

She recognized the yell through her sleepy stupor, and shook herself awake. The night before had been a long, sleepless one, and she could hardly keep her eyes open as she sat at her spinning wheel, her fingers losing the wool as she drowsed, letting the yarn she’d held spin itself undone.

“One second,” she called, and got up, her body creaking. It had been two days since her evening with Mogens, and her bones had yet to forget that she’d slept on the iron-hard deck of his boat.

Riaghail and Éignach stood outside her door, looking a bit too excited about the day for her tastes.

“Did we have plans for bowling?” she asked, scratching her head. “I don’t remember—”

“We didn’t plan anything,” Éignach said, quick to reassure her, and Riaghail elbowed him in the ribs.

“We came over cause we’re bored,” Riaghail explained as Éignach massaged his side. “No one’s around and the boatman has been acting weird since yesterday. He’s no fun when he isn’t napping.”

“We figured you might help us find something to do,” Éignach put in.

Rubbing her hands over her face, Teo sighed, then looked at the two again.

“Have you two found clothes for the wedding yet?”

The brothers looked at one another, then shook their heads.

“Well, then” Teo said, pulling on her jacket and boots, “let’s go have a look in those bins your mother has.”

Teo spent the better part of the afternoon with her cousins, sorting through the ancient trunks of clothes in her aunt’s attic. By the time the sun was setting, they’d found a set of decently appropriate wedding clothes for both men, along with several, remarkably hardy moths.

“Stay for dinner, Teodora,” her aunt said as she made to go, and, not one to turn down a free meal, she accepted.

Dinner with her cousins was a delicious and energetic affair, as always. By the time Teo left the house, she was stuffed to the brim, pleasantly tipsy, and carrying a plate of leftovers.

“ _It’s a damn tough life, full of toil and strife, we whaler-men undergo,_ ” she began, pointing herself toward her house with a purpose.

“ _And we don’t give a damn when the gale is done, how hard the winds did blow!_ ”

A rough baritone joined Teo’s alto as she sang, surprising her into silence, and she halted, turning to investigate. Through the darkness, she could make out the stout figure of the boatman approaching from the end of the lane.

“Ah, the voice of a comrade!” Mogens exclaimed. He walked up and stopped a few feet away, his crooked grin spreading from ear to ear. “…And it just so happens to be yours, miss Teodora. How are you doing this fine evening?”

“Pretty well, and yourself?” Teo replied, startled at the warmth that spread through her chest at the sight of him. His shoulders lifted in a shrug, and he fell into step beside her.

“Oh, you know,” Mogens said cheerfully, adjusting his cap, “same slop, just reheated, as always.”

“Reheated slop is nearly as good as fresh slop, at least in my opinion.”

Chuckling, Mogens pulled a flask from his pocket, but not the silver one this time. He emptied it, then returned it to its hiding place with a sigh.

“I suppose you have a point,” he admitted. “I guess I should just take my slop however it’s served to me, silver platter or no.”

His demeanor was so dramatically woebegone that Teo almost felt bad for him.

“What’s up with you, Mogens? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this chipper before,” she said.

“Oh, but I am chipper,” he told her, his grin never leaving its typical place.

“Liar.”

Teo fished under the cloth that covered her plate of leftovers and offered him a piece of cooked ham. The look that Mogens gave her as he took the meat from her fingers and popped it into his mouth was puppy-dog grateful.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he mumbled through the mouthful. “I’ve never been more honest in my life. Take me in front of a judge, or a magistrate, I’ll swear on the Bible itself—”

“Stop talking with your mouth full, you dolt,” Teo said, and handed him another piece of food. For once, Mogens obediently clamped his mouth shut and chewed, though he managed to look smug the entire time. He swallowed, then opened his mouth to say something else, but Teo managed to stop him by handing him even more food. Pleased about being fed, Mogens stayed quiet and continued to accept the leftovers.

Once they reached her house, Teo stopped and pulled the last piece of meat from the plate, holding it out.

“A final piece for the road?” she asked, and Mogens grinned. He leaned forward to grasp her hand, tugging it up toward his mouth, and ate the meat in one bite. Then, to her surprise, he bent and licked the grease from each of her fingers with deliberate, tantalizing slowness.

“M-Mogens?” she stammered. Goosebumps prickled down her arms. “What are you… I mean—”

The boatman straightened with a crooked smile and let go of her hand.

“Nighty night, and sweet dreams, miss Teodora,” he drawled, and vanished into the darkness. After a long minute, Teo wiped her fingers on her pants. Although she didn’t want to admit it, the feeling of his tongue on her skin had sent waves of heat boiling through her center until she thought she would melt.

_That damn man,_ she thought, biting her lip. _That DAMN boatman, doing that, catching me off guard… Well, if he wants to play that game, we can play that game._

The next few weeks found Teo and the boatman engaging in a sarcastic, snarky, yet flirtatious pseudo-tournament of something akin to cat and mouse. One day one of them would have the upper hand and leave the other dumbstruck, and the next day, the other would win a round or two. When she wasn’t engaged in battle, Teo worked on her spinning, or looked for supplies in the forest.

She began to feel increasingly irritable as the days passed. Playing any game with Mogens was like herding cats; you could never corner them all no matter how hard you tried, and you could never win against Mogens for long. Nights became her least favorite time of day. When the sun was up, she could wander the woods or keep her mind occupied with work, but at night she had nothing to do to keep her from dwelling on the boatman until she fell asleep. When she did sleep, it was restlessly, dreaming of sailing the ocean in fully-rigged ships propelled by salty sea wind. More and more frequently, she found herself at the bar, doing her best to fill her head with something other than…

Mogens stretched out in the empty rocking chair he’d commandeered on someone’s front porch, basking in the dying rays of sunlight. He’d been enjoying himself of late, teasing Teo until she turned scarlet, then being teased in return. She kept him guessing at every turn, something very few people could manage to do. He liked that. It felt weird to finally let someone through his deliberately constructed wall of humor, but weird in an interesting way.

Though he still ached when Jesper appeared in his thoughts, more often than not he was too busy thinking of new ways to torment Teo to brood over the postman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics used were from the song "Rolling Down to Old Maui" a traditional sea shanty. Not sure who wrote it originally but both Stan Rogers and the Dreadnoughts sing great versions of it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly longer chapter this time... in which things start to heat up

It had been several days since Teo had last seen Mogens, but she hadn’t been able to get his smug face out of her head.

“Damn boatman,” she muttered. “That _damn_ —”

She kicked the bar door open with a bit more force than was necessary and it bounced off the wall, nearly closing in her face, but she caught it at the last second.

“Liquor, whatever you have that can knock socks off, if you please,” she said, dropping onto a bar stool. Caolán, the bartender, shrugged and grabbed a bottle from the shelf behind the bar.

“Seems like you’ve been in a rough spot lately, Teo,” he commented. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

Teo had gotten to know the man quite well since she’d arrived in Smeerensburg, but the question still surprised her.

“Talk about?” she asked. Caolán handed her the shot.

“You know, divulge, get off your chest, open up about, etc.?”

“I didn’t need a list, I was just…” Teo took the shot and smacked it back on the counter. “Another, please. And I don’t know, I don’t think I could properly explain it.”

“You can always try.”

Jesper sat beside her, smiling warmly as he did so.

“I’ll have a Martinez,” he said to Caolán, then turned back to Teo. “What’s up? I’ve also noticed that you’ve been looking rather frustrated lately. Why don’t you try and put it to words?”

“Oh, you too now?” Teo groaned, and downed the next shot. She couldn’t even tell what kind of liquor she was drinking, just that it was finally beginning to do its job.

“It’s Mogens!” she exclaimed, thumping her fist on the bar. “He’s driving me insane!”

“It took long enough,” Jesper said. He accepted his glass from the bartender with thanks and sipped. “Ooh, this is much better than last time! Did you use the supplies I sent you?”

Caolán nodded, and began to wipe the counter. Satisfied, Jesper once again returned his attention to Teo.

“So?” he asked. “What about him in particular is driving you insane? How did it not happen months ago? I’m almost glad he’s adopted you as his new favorite target, he’s a pain in the ass when he wants to be.”

“Adopted? He’s just… well… I don’t know!” Teo snapped. “I thought I’d be able to get back at him for being… infuriating… and every time I think I’ve gotten him he turns things around! He’s as slippery as a damn eel!”

“Sounds like the Mogens we all know and adore,” Jesper replied. “I remember when he used to mess with me every time I saw him, but he hardly bothers me at all these days. How did you manage to catch his attention so thoroughly?”

Teo flushed.

“I’m not sure,” she confessed, “but he really has been… well, a lot. I haven’t been sleeping well, I can’t think straight when he’s talking to me, and I can’t stop thinking abou—” She stopped, embarrassed. “Another shot, please!”

“You know, Teo,” Jesper said as Caolán poured her another drink, “it sounds _almost_ like you _might_ be—”

“ _Don’t say it!_ ”

“—in love,” he finished.

Teo flopped onto the counter with a moan of lament.

“I said not to say it,” she complained. “Do you know how long I’ve been cultivating that plot of denial?”

“Quite a while, apparently,” the postman replied, sipping his cocktail. “You know, I’ve been watching you two for some time, and I actually think you actually work pretty well together.”

“You aren’t helping,” she grumbled, and drained the shot glass.

“I never said I could help, I’m only the lowly postman.”

Jesper stood, placed several bills on the counter and turned to leave.

“That should cover everything, hers too” he said to Caolán, then he patted Teo on the shoulder. “And best of luck.”

He left, letting the door swing shut behind him with a final-sounding thump.

“So, what’ll you do now, Teo?” Caolán asked, collecting the empty glasses and dumping them in a bucket of wash water. Teo moaned quietly.

“I think I need to recover some of my dignity,” she confessed. Jesper had done a very thorough job of destroying the garden of denial with a few quick words, and she’d need time to rebuild it.

She left the bar, walking tipsily in the direction of her house, and more importantly, her bed. Sleep seemed like the best thing for her to do. If she woke up the next morning, she could face her problems then. If.

Teo had never been great at dealing with her problems. She preferred if they just sorted themselves out naturally, even if she had to avoid them for months for that to happen, but this time that wouldn’t work. Though she began avoiding him as much as she could without raising suspicion, thoughts of the boatman filled her head as she worked on her spinning and knitting, chopped wood, or wandered around the woods. She began to see him even when she slept. It felt like he dogged her every step as she went about her day.

_What does Jesper even know,_ she thought late one afternoon, swinging her splitting maul down on an oak round with a loud thwack. _He’s just making assumptions. I’m not in_ love _with Mogens, I just…_

“Damnit!” she yelled, kicking the split wood aside, then she snagged another round and hefted the maul over her shoulder. “Damnit, damnit—”

The rounds of wood nearly jumped apart of their own accord under her frustrated swings, splinters of wood flying in every direction. She swung again, and the maul embedded itself in the stump she was using as a chopping block, and stayed stuck despite her efforts to free it. Tired and unreasonably angry, she gave up on the maul and stacked the wood she’d chopped, then dropped into the wood pile, burying her face in her blistered and calloused hands. The darkness was blessedly cool against her burning eyes.

It was undeniable; she would have to do something about Mogens soon, or she would go properly mad. _But what to do?_ she wondered. _How does one go about this kind of thing?_

Just as she’d never been great at dealing with her problems internally, Teo had never been very good at taking those problems head on. She had no idea how to approach the boatman in a genuine way. Maybe she could… no, it didn’t seem like anything would work. How could she think that he would even consider letting her behind his daily façade that he kept so rigorously maintained? He never let anyone in, let alone a nosy mainlander like her.

“Teodora?” her mother called. “There’s a delivery here for you.”

Teo stood and dragged her feet up the back steps and through the house, then pulled open the front door. Jesper stood on the doorstep, looking a little concerned. He smiled up at her and extended a hand that held a smudged, dirty envelope that looked as if someone had stepped on it at some point in its life.

“This is for you,” the postman said. Teo took the letter from his thin fingers and opened the letter. In a tilted, messy cursive scrawl, the note read:

_Miss Teodora,_

_If you’d join me at the boat when you’re free, I have something you might be interested in._

It was unsigned.

“Boat?...” Teo said. Jesper watched comprehension dawn on her face.

“Mogens asked me to deliver it to you.” He spoke cautiously, but curiosity sparkled in his eyes. “Paid for the postage and everything, so it must be something important, at least according to him.”

“It better be important,” Teo grumbled, grabbing her coat off its hook near the door, “or I’m tossing him into the ocean.”

Her words made Jesper chuckle.

“Ooh, I’d love to see that. Too bad I still have other deliveries to make.”

He bade her farewell and headed up the hill as Teo made for the harbor with long, purposeful strides.

_I thought chopping wood was supposed to help with irritation,_ she thought. _But I just feel… worse._

Though it was the middle of March, springtime was still a ways away. The air was chilly, with only the faintest hint that spring was even drawing closer, and the sky was gray. Snow crunched under Teo’s boots. As the harbor came into view, a sudden jolt of indecision hit her in the gut. Was this a good idea? She paused. She would never know if she didn’t…

“Miss Teodora!” Mogens exclaimed as Teo walked down the dock toward him. “You’ll never guess—”

“I don’t wanna guess, just spit it out.”

The boatman’s eyes widened at the snapped response, then his face fell.

“If you aren’t up for it, I won’t share any with you then,” he said, and shrugged.

“For fuck’s sake, Mogens— oh, fine. What is it?” she asked. He shook his head.

“I don’t want to tell you anymore.”

Teo let out a noise that was a mix of frustration and defeat and stomped over, then dropped her rear onto the edge of the dock adjacent to the boat.

“You don’t have to tell me then,” she said, rubbing her face with tired hands. “I’ll just sit here for no reason.”

She kept her face in her hands until she felt the boards creak as Mogens sat beside her, then she lifted her head.

“You don’t look so good,” he said to her, scratching his chin. “Maybe this will help.” His jacket rustled as he withdrew a tall, thin bottle made of sparkling green glass. The label was unreadable from a distance, but Teo suspected what it was.

“How—” she began, but Mogens put a finger to his lips and popped the cork from the bottle, then handed it to her.

“No questions,” he said. “Drink.”

She obeyed. The taste of the liquor was shockingly smooth and delightfully smoky. Sipping, Teo shot Mogens a look that clearly said, _‘you bastard, how did you manage to get something this nice?’_

“I have my connections,” he said, in answer to her unspoken question, “and they’re carefully guarded too.”

“You guard everything carefully,” Teo said, handing the bottle back to him and trying to keep the bitter note from her voice. He gave her an odd look.

“Of course I do, isn’t that natural?”

“I guess.”

He drank, and Teo watched as his eyes glazed over.

“I thought you might appreciate something this fine,” he said eventually, lowering the bottle and grinning. “You seem to have fairly good taste.”

“I certainly think so,” Teo replied. Thinking of her apparent taste in men, she added, “Well, most of the time.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said.” Teo answered, then hastily changed the subject. “If I were to imagine how you got this…” she began, then suddenly, she remembered the dreams that had plagued her since Christmas, and she grinned.

“I’d say that you were a sailor in your youth, and you sailed with a well-known ship that went everywhere! And one day, when you made port in, I don’t know—” she glanced at the bottle’s label, “Ireland, you met a beautiful widow who took a liking to you, and you spent a lovely few days together, then you had to leave. As you said goodbye, she gave you a letter with her address and promised to send you a bottle of finest Irish whiskey once a year if you wrote her and told you where to send it to. Does that sound believable to you?”

Mogens stared at her for a moment, his mouth slightly agape, then he let out a hoot of laughter. He laughed for a solid minute, then subsided into chuckles and wiped his eyes, seeming to regain his composure.

“You are quite the storyteller, miss Teodora, but that is the wildest yarn I’ve ever heard.” He tipped his hat and took a swig from the bottle in his hand. “Me, a sailor on a well-known ship? Making port in Ireland?” Apparently the idea was too much for him, and he began to laugh once more. Teo glared at him until he was finished, then said,

“Well, I think it’s pretty believable.”

Mogens shrugged.

“I suppose parts of the story could be convincing, sure, but a beautiful widow taking a fancy to me? That most definitely sounds like a fantastical yarn. Only a real idiot would fall for an old sea dog like myself!” Laughter took him once more. Annoyed, Teo reached over and pulled the bottle from his grip.

“Here I was, believing that you’d given up calling me names, Mogens,” she said frostily, “but I see you’ve only been taking a short break.”

“What’s that?” the boatman asked, wiping his watering eyes with a finger.

“What?” Teo could feel herself turning red, so she drank from the bottle, then thrust it back at him and looked away. Mogens took another drink as well, and stared at her.

“What you just said,” he pressed. “What was it?”

“I think you’re finally going mad,” Teo told him, still looking out at the horizon instead of meeting his curious gaze, “because I didn’t say anything.”

“My madness aside, we both know you said something. Say it again.”

“Nope.”

“Come on, say it.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Teo said stubbornly. Her cheeks burned. Of course this had been a bad idea. She jumped to her feet.

“Thanks for the whiskey,” she managed. She turned to flee.

“Ah, the classic go-to,” Mogens said, pushing himself up off the dock. “Running away. Which means you didn’t want me to hear what you said. Which means…”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Teo snapped.

“Of course not,” Mogens agreed, contrary as a cat. He tipped back the bottle of whiskey and swallowed. “If you say it doesn’t, then I guess have to believe you, don’t I?” he said, and got onto his boat, moving toward the half open cabin while tucking the bottle in his coat.

Something cracked. Teo winced, knowing only she had heard the sound of her restraint snapping like a dry twig under a heavy boot. Heat boiled into her throat and lungs and sank into her stomach. _Why not now?_ she wondered, feeling her body turn almost without her command and practically float down the dock.

“You,” she managed. Mogens swiveled around at the sound of her approaching boots, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid her hands as she grabbed fistfuls his scarf and jacket, then she pushed him up the few steps into the cabin and shoved him against the steering wheel.

“How often do you do this?” he drawled. “Am I the only lucky recipient of this particular behavior, or is it an everyday kind of thing?” He looked so infuriatingly smug as he spoke that she nearly threw him into the ocean as she’d threatened to do earlier. Instead, she leaned closer.

“You are so fucking irritating,” she growled. “You’re nasty, annoying, dirty, unhelpful…” Words failed her.

“No, no, please keep going,” Mogens said, grinning up into her face. “This is lovely, please continue.”

Teo gaped at him.

“Really, don’t stop,” he drawled. “You were just getting to the good part. What are you trying to say? Is this some sort of confession?”

“YES!” Teo shouted, surprising them both. “That’s _exactly_ what this is!”

Mogens blinked, then his toothy grin slid back into place.

“Oh come now, you don’t think you can pull the wool over my eyes that easily, do you? You’re too easy to read, it’s obvious you’re just—”

Teo swooped down and crushed her mouth against his, effectively shutting him up and not caring to be smooth or careful in doing so. Heat flooded her senses, wiping out everything else in her consciousness, then she gasped and pulled back. Mogens didn’t look upset or angry; he simply looked thoughtful.

“You know, if you wanted me to stop talking, you only needed to ask,” he said.

“ARGH!” Teo yelled, letting go of his jacket collar, spinning around, and flinging her arms up into the air, “Dammit! I just can’t do anything right! First, I wanted to toss you off this damn boat, now I just want to kiss you again and—”

She made a wordless noise of frustration and jumped off the boat, then began to stride down the dock. It wasn’t until she was nearly halfway up the hill that she heard someone calling her name. Taking a breath, she stopped, and spun around to see who it was.

Mogens stood at the bottom of the rise, looking lost.

“Come back for a moment,” he called. “…Please.”

A fist tightened around Teo’s lungs, but she walked back down the hill until she stood in front of the boatman, her face burning with embarrassment and temper.

“What?” she asked. Mumbling something inaudible, Mogens stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked at the snow with one booted foot, looking so much like a sheepish child that Teo softened. It was cute.

“Were you being serious?” he asked suddenly, meeting her eyes with his own. “Just now?”

“Um, maybe?”

“You were?”

It was Mogens’ turn to blush. He looked away and rubbed a hand over his chin and then the back of his neck, evidently lost for words. Teo waited.

“I… well, I…” he finally muttered, “I didn’t realize…” He stopped, adjusted his hat, and shifted back and forth. The fist around Teo’s lungs clenched, and she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put you in that spot, I won’t do it again.”

“That’s not—” Mogens began, but then he stopped and drew breath. “I just… Will you walk with me?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter gets a bit riské... in which some talking happens and a piece of furniture bites the dust

Teo shrugged and followed Mogens as he swung about and headed along the lane that bordered the harbor. They passed house after house until the boatman finally stopped in front of the last building and walked up the stairs to the front door.

“Do you mind coming in?” he asked, a shadow of his usual grin flickering across his face. “It’s less… public, and I have a reputation to maintain.”

Teo was beginning to wonder where this was going. She’d thought he’d turned her down completely, but now it felt like that wasn’t quite the case. The steps creaked beneath her feet as she followed him inside.

The house was tiny. Rough boards made up the bare, undecorated walls, and the same boards complained loudly under Teo’s boots when she stepped on them. No rugs or carpets softened the harsh lines of the wooden floor, and no paintings or photos added life to the room. The only furniture in the room was a table and two chairs, and the only hint that any other part of the house existed was a rickety-looking set of stairs leading up to a second floor.

“Whose house is this?” Teo asked. “It doesn’t even look… lived in.”

“Technically, it’s mine. And it isn’t really. I prefer sleeping on other people’s porches, it’s more comfortable, and more entertaining,” Mogens said and shrugged, then made for the stove. “Feel free to take a load off.”

Teo sat at the tiny, wobbly table on a tiny, wobbly chair and watched in vague amazement as the boatman made quick work of starting a fire, stacked several logs inside the stove and shut the door, and pushed the lever that would open a tiny slot for air.

“Tea?” Mogens asked, but didn’t even wait for an answer before he pulled a kettle off a nearby hook, filled it, and set it on the stovetop. He whistled through his teeth as he pulled an ancient teapot and two chipped mugs down from a tiny cupboard, then fished around in a drawer and pulled out a battered tin with a faded label.

_I don’t even know what’s happening,_ Teo thought, watching Mogens struggle to open the tin. He eventually won his battle with the rusted metal and the tin popped open, shedding pieces of dried herbs all over the floor.

“Happens every time,” he muttered. He poured some of the herbs into the teapot. A moment later, he pulled the steaming kettle off the stove and sloshed boiling water over the tea.

At last, Mogens slid a steaming mug under Teo’s nose and sat at the table across from her. He sipped from his own cup, winced, sipped again, then sighed.

Teo stared at him without touching her mug.

“You don’t like mint?” he asked, having noticed her likeness to a statue. “Why didn’t you speak up? I have chamomile too—”

“Mint is fine,” Teo interrupted. “I just don’t know what’s going on.”

“I thought that was clear; we’re having tea.”

“Tea?” Teo jumped out of her chair and started to pace back and forth. “ _Tea?_ ”

“Yes. Mint, to be exact.”

“You are too much sometimes,” Teo said with a sigh. “Are you going to spit it out, or should I just go?”

“Why would I spit out my tea? I just made it!”

“You know what I mean!”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do.”

A quick internal struggle showed on Mogens’ face, a crease appearing between his thick eyebrows. He reached up and adjusted his hat.

“A simple yes or no would be fine,” Teo said, and watched another spasm of discomfort ripple across his features.

“So, you were serious, then.”

“Yes, I was, and I still am, though I’m beginning to think saying anything was a mistake.”

“…But you were serious? You want to smooch me? Even though I’m nasty, annoying, dirty, and what was the last one?”

“…Unhelpful.”

“Ah yes, my best quality.”

Teo crossed her arms and glared at the boatman.

“Yes, okay? How many times do I have to say it?”

“I don’t know if I believe you, miss Teodora.”

A wicked twinkle sparked in his black eyes, and his mouth gradually formed his favorite infuriating, crooked grin. “No sane person wants to smooch me, I don’t believe it. In fact, I think I won’t believe it unless I see it.”

He watched Teo scowl and take a step toward him, then another. When she stood over him, he winked up at her.

“Come and get it,” he drawled. For a brief moment, Teo wrestled with the burning desire to tip him out of his chair, then she reached out and took his stubbly chin in her fingers, tipping his head back.

“Your mother should’ve drowned you as a baby,” she muttered, then bent and kissed him, much more carefully this time. Her head spun. He tasted like whiskey and mint and smoke, and the way he kissed was hesitant, as if it was something he hadn’t done in years. After a moment, she drew back, and saw to her satisfaction that his eyes had gone an unfocused and his cheeks had flushed a pale pink.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Not yet,” he rasped, “I may still need convincing.”

She bent again, and this time Mogens came alive under her touch, reaching out to yank her onto his lap as he returned her kiss with enthusiasm, if not skill. The chair under them squealed in protest.

“It’s gonna break!” Teo gasped, trying to pull out of his hold, but his arms were like steel cables around her waist.

“What is?” Mogens asked innocently.

The chair did buckle then, collapsing beneath their combined weight to send them sprawling onto the floor in a heap. Teo landed on Mogens’ lap, and Mogens landed on the sad and splintery remains of the former chair. For a moment, all they could do was stare at each other, then they started to laugh, the sound almost too loud in the tiny house.

“You need new furniture,” Teo gasped, looking down at the boatman who grinned foolishly back.

“I hardly live here anyway,” he replied. “I was expecting that to happen last year, since that wood was only about a day or two older than dirt. Now, if that had been the chair in the mainland ferryman’s shack, I’d be in real trouble.”

His face shifted as he looked up at her, grin fading, his expression moving from awkwardness to discomfort to something that looked like a deep-rooted sadness. The tension left his body and his arms thumped to the floor.

“You don’t really want me, miss Teodora,” he said, the frankness in his voice hard and bitter. “No one in their right mind buys broken, secondhand merchandise, not even for a special occasion such as this.”

“That’s lucky for you then, since I’m not paying for anything.”

Teo leaned down and grabbed his stubbly face in both hands, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Nobody over the age of five is completely whole,” she said, voice soft. “From then on it’s just a question of one’s ability to repair and move on, or just live with it. I would be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn’t at least a little bit cracked.”

“Cracked is all well and good—” he began, but Teo cut him off.

“Shut up and let me finish. _I don’t care how broken you are._ ”

“I don’t know if broken is the right word, maybe… shattered into a million pieces and ground into the dirt? That sounds a bit more accurate.”

“Mogens, I’m trying to be serious, stop messing around and being dramatic.”

“I’m really a very undramatic man, miss Teodora,” he replied. “I’m very serious. In fact, I consider myself to be the most serious and sincere person on this entire island.”

“Serious and sincere, my left asscheek.”

“This one?”

He slid his hand up and gripped the area in question, making Teo chuckle.

“No the other one.”

Grinning wickedly, Mogens obliged the unspoken request and cupped her ass in both hands. Despite the surge of desire in her stomach, Teo meticulously wiped the smile off her face and straightened in his hold, pretending to think.

“So does this mean…” she said slowly. “You’re interested?”

“What?”

“You’re interested in me? You like me? Really?”

“I didn’t say…”

Teo frowned.

“Oh, well if not—” she said, and tried to stand up, but Mogens gripped her waist.

“Wait,” he mumbled. “I’m just… it’s been a long time. A _really_ long time. I didn’t even think anything… like this… would happen again… ever.”

“Mogens,” Teo murmured, relenting and leaning down to stroke his cheek, “I’ll say it again, because it seems like your skull is too thick to let it through without reinforcement… _I don’t care how broken you are._ ”

Mogens turned his face toward her touch, closing his eyes in a gesture of vulnerability that sent a wave of softness through Teo’s chest.

“You’re warm,” he mumbled, pressing his cheek into her palm, “like the summer sun on the deck of a ship.”

“Very poetic.”

“Aren’t I?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, how’s this for less poetic?” he said, propping himself up on his elbows. “I liked what we did to my chair. How’s about we head upstairs and do the same thing to my bed?”

“That’s a very tempting offer,” Teo replied, “but can you even stand up? I’ve heard you’ve got a bad back.”

Mogens let out bark of laughter. Laughing with him, she pushed herself up and dragged him to his feet.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the explicit chapter! If explicit is not your jam, ill be posting the next chapter soon, so tune in then! If it is your jam, then I hope you enjoy ;)

They managed to make it up the rickety stairs without mishap, then Teo shoved the boatman down onto the bed, and reaching down, she plucked the hat off his head and tugged it down onto her own.

“Alright, you bastard, I’m the captain now, and I want to see all this—” she pointed down at his clothes, “come off.”

For a moment, it looked like Mogens’ eyes were going to pop out of his head, then his mouth slowly twisted into a grin.

“Aye, captain,” he said. He shucked his coat and scarf, tossed them to the other side of the bed, and engaged in a struggle with his belt. Teo watched with amusement as he finally managed to undo it. Then he reached for his sweater.

“Sweet Lord above,” Teo whispered.

Faded blue tattoos painted nearly all of Mogens’ body, stopping only at the base of his neck and halfway down his forearms, and disappearing under his pants. Though the lines had bled over time, Teo could see the designs clearly even through the wiry hair that covered him. A stylized heart impaled by three swords had been tattooed on the left side of his chest, showing a banner that read, ‘ _In Morte, Pax’_. On the right side of his chest, Teo could make out a flower surrounded by leaves. A large, fully-rigged ship crested a wave on his stomach, and beneath the boat, a kraken was just visible, its tentacles rising out of the water with deadly intent.

Teo lifted one of his arms and examined the lines there, seeing an anchor, a nautical steering wheel, a stylized fish, and a rose, among many other designs. When she lifted the other arm, she saw a skull, a bird, yet another anchor, a shark, and more.

“How…?” she murmured, tracing the lines on his chest. “This must’ve taken forever.”

“You’d be amazed at what a fellow can do with a needle and an hour,” Mogens said cheerfully, though his eyes were locked on her movements, belying his casual tone.

“I am amazed,” Teo admitted, “these are beautiful. Now, let’s get rid of those pants.”

New tattoos appeared as Mogens tugged off his trousers. A hula girl danced on his left thigh, a mermaid waved from his right, and small birds, stars, and flowers filled the rest of the blank space.

“Naughty,” Teo commented, tapping the inked women, both of whom were sporting large breasts and alluring expressions.

“Just you wait,” Mogens replied, and pulled off his underclothes.

Heat welled in Teo’s lower belly at the sight of Mogens completely naked, propped up on his elbows, his cock lying thick and heavy against his hairy thigh. He grinned.

“You get a show and I don’t? That’s hardly fair.”

“Alright then, hold this.”

Catching his own hat, the boatman watched with amused fascination as Teo started to unbutton her shirt, baring pale, freckled skin. She tossed the shirt aside, undid her pants, and let them fall to the floor.

“Come here and let me get those for you,” Mogens drawled. He sat up and beckoned with a single, lazy finger. His hands were gentle as he pulled the undergarment down, taking his time and letting his fingers run along the lines of her legs, then he let go of the cloth and ran his hands up and over her hips.

“Nice to know the carpet matches the drapes,” he said, grinning and leaning forward to place a stubbly kiss just below her navel. “I’ve been wondering what’s underneath all your layers, miss Teodora.”

“Oh, shut up— Wait, you’ve been thinking about it?” Teo asked, embarrassed.

“Just casually,” Mogens replied and tugged her forward. He let himself fall backwards, then scooted further onto the bed, pulling her with him until she knelt above him, straddling his hips.

“What do you want me to do to you, boatman,” Teo asked softly, touching the side of his neck where a stylized pair of lips had been inked, and Mogens shuddered under her fingers.

“Touch me,” he rasped. She obliged, stroking her hands over his chest and arms, and leaned down to place her mouth over the tattoo on his neck. Following her instincts, she scraped her teeth slowly along the lines of the ink. Mogens moaned.

“You like that?” Teo murmured. He nodded. “Good.”

Biting hard and nibbling gently in turn, she made her way down his neck and across his chest, leaving deep red bruises in her wake. It didn’t seem as if Mogens could keep quiet or keep his hands still; he grunted and moaned as he caressed up and down Teo’s sides, over her back, and down her arms. Suddenly, Teo jerked up. Startled, Mogens’ eyes widened out of their half-lidded haze, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “Do you want to be on the bottom?”

“Absolutely not,” Teo declared. She grabbed his jaw and tilted his head back. “But I’ve wanted to do this for a _long_ time.”

She let go of his face and slapped him, not hard enough to really hurt but definitely enough to sting. The sound rang through the room. Mogens turned back slowly, his mouth gaping as he looked up at her.

“Do that again,” he rasped. “Please.”

Her palm stung with the impact as she slapped him again. His cheek was beginning to turn red, so Teo leaned down and kissed it gently.

“And you enjoyed that, too?”

“Yeah,” he gasped. “I did.”

“Of course you did,” Teo told him, then she took his chin again and kissed him thoroughly. He was regaining some memory of how to respond properly to a kiss, she realized, and he used to be good. Really good. His tongue pressed against hers, slipping skillfully into her mouth then pulling back, letting her take the offensive. Their teeth clacked together, and Teo had to draw away to laugh.

Her body was on fire. She hadn’t even realized how much she wanted him until now. It was a fierce ache in her stomach that threatened to undo her. Ready to feel some contact of her own, Teo took his hands and placed them on her chest.

“You’ve got permission, you know,” she said with a rakish grin. “More than.”

His hands were more skilled than his mouth, or at least they seemed to remember more about what to do. He watched her face as his thumbs flicked quickly across her nipples, then he pinched gently. Pressing herself into his hands, Teo let out a long sigh of appreciation. His hands were huge and deliciously rough against her tender skin, rubbing and squeezing until Teo thought she might burst into flames.

“Having fun?” Mogens asked. His eyes were glued to her, watching her reaction to his touch. Teo nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

At her nod, his hands left her breasts and reached around to grip her thighs, pulling her up and over his gut.

“C’mere darlin’,” he drawled, “I’m not afraid of getting a little wet.”

“I mean, you do drive a boat— aah!”

Her body jerked, hands fisting in the sheets, as Mogens’ mouth found her heat. She could barely breathe. Coils of pleasure tightened in her stomach. His tongue rubbed over her clit and she cried out, her legs shaking with the effort of holding her steady. He grinned against her, and repeated the movement.

“Mogens,” Teo gasped. “Please—”

“Mmm,” was his answer, and his lips fastened over the perfect spot, his tongue moving with determined precision, and Teo cried his name as climax ripped through her core, pulsing like a furious, racing heartbeat. Fighting for air, Teo relaxed.

“Mmph, mmph!”

“Whoops, sorry,” she said, hastily lifting herself up off his nose and mouth. Mogens sucked in a breath, then grinned.

“Is this a new tactic to keep me quiet?” he asked. “Cause it’s my favorite so far.”

“It wasn’t meant to be, but I’d be more than happy to do it again.”

Dragging her down again, he went to work.

Several mind-blowing orgasms later, Teo pushed herself off his face and they both tried desperately to catch their breath. His mouth and chin were slick with her arousal and his own saliva, but Teo leaned down to kiss him anyway. The salty taste of her mixed with the hint of whiskey that still remained on his tongue.

“Sexy. Also, that reminds me,” she said, leaning over him to grab his jacket. It took a minute for her to locate the bottle of whiskey through the clutter of flasks and random objects in his pockets, but she finally drew it out with a triumphant smile. “Found it.”

The look that Mogens gave her then was reminiscent of worship.

“A woman after my own heart,” he said admiringly, and accepted the bottle from her. She scooted back over his gut so he could prop himself up and drink. His Adam’s apple bobbed for a moment, and then he handed the bottle back so she could drink as well. The bottle then went to the bedside table.

“Now, let me do something for you,” she said. His cock was still lying half-hard against his thigh, so she took in her hand and gave it an experimental squeeze. Mogens jerked and moaned. Taking that as a good sign, spat into her palm and slicked her hand over the pink head of his erection and down to its base. His length wasn’t especially impressive, but Teo had never seen a cock so thick before. She could barely wrap her fist all the way around it. A network of pretty blue veins ran under the skin beneath her fingers, reminding her of the rivers that were drawn on maps.

When she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, Mogens let out a deep groan.

“Ah, fuck,” he managed, propping himself up and reaching down to fist a hand in her braids. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Push down and I’ll bite,” she warned him. His only response was to grin and cup the back of her head, massaging her scalp with absent fingers. Ignoring him now, she returned her focus to his cock. She emptied her mind of distraction and took him in her mouth once more, letting his musky, salty scent and taste flood her senses.

The boatman let her set her own pace. His only commentary was his labored breathing and the occasional moan. His hand stayed firmly tangled in her hair. A sharp grunt and a tightening of his fingers heralded a burst of viscous, bitter precome in her mouth. Mogens popped himself from her lips and slapped his slippery erection against her cheek.

“I don’t want this to end before I get a chance to have you sit on my cock, miss Teodora,” he told her, his eyes twinkling wickedly. “That would just ruin my day.”

The words sent heat flooding between Teo’s legs.

“Oh, well, I’d hate to ruin your day,” she replied, putting as much sarcasm as she could muster into her voice as she crawled up to straddle his lap once more.

“Don’t rush yourself, I’m in no hurry,” Mogens drawled. His eyes widened as her hand shot out and clamped firmly over his mouth. Not even bothering to offer him an explanation, she lowered herself so the tip of his erection pressed against her, took a breath, and relaxed until he began to slip inside her, an aching inch at a time. Teo was no inexperienced virgin, but his shaft stretched her body until her eyes watered.

“Take it easy, champ,” Mogens said, having taken advantage of her distraction to shift his mouth out from under her hand. “Don’t hurt yourself on my account.”

Growling, Teo slapped her hand over his lips once again.

“Shush,” she said. Her voice was breathless, and she discovered that it had been a mistake to speak. Now that she had, she couldn’t keep the whine from escaping her mouth as she slid down his length to finally settle flush against his skin. His erection twitched inside her.

“You’re… too… thick!” she panted. “It’s… unreasonable!”

“Mmm… and you’re unreasonably tight, so we’re even…” Mogens replied, having escaped her hand again. He gripped her waist, and gently thrust his hips. A belligerent sound of mixed pleasure and pain tumbled from Teo’s throat, making Mogens grin, and he thrust again, harder this time, bouncing her on his cock.

“Fuck, oh fuck!” Teo cried. “Please— aah!”

Red, raised lines trailed after her fingernails as she scrabbled for purchase on the hairy expanse of Mogens’ stomach, driven to wordless cries by the girth that stretched and filled her to the breaking point. Sweat slicked their bodies. The boatman bounced her carefully, biting back his own moans as Teo mewled above him. He didn’t need to thrust hard; his girth was enough to begin to drive wave after wave of pleasure through Teo’s core. Any pain that had come before disappeared. The sensations overwhelmed Teo’s sense of up and down, so she clung to the man beneath her for dear life as he brought her to breathless, shaking orgasm.

After catching some of her run-away breath, Teo sat up and met Mogens’ hazy eyes.

“Can you do that again?” she panted. He chuckled, adjusted his grasp on her hips, and said,

“Captain, for you, I could go all night.”

“It’s not even dinner time, you madman,” Teo laughed, then she had to stop, as Mogens started to move again.

He drove her climax after climax, until she lost count. Her mind went blank. Blindly reaching out, she pulled him to her and kissed him fiercely, using teeth as much as lips. He responded with a kind of heedless desperation that made Teo want him all the more. Her teeth found his neck again.

“I promise I won’t break,” he wheezed. “Harder.”

Teo answered his words with a sharp nip that caught skin between her canines, drawing a whimper from somewhere deep in his chest. His hips stuttered.

“That’s it, I’m getting close,” he ground out, and stopped his movements. Realizing what he intended, Teo straightened and pushed herself up, letting his length slide out of her. She gasped at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He took hold of himself and began to stroke, but Teo briskly slapped his fingers away.

“Nope, hands off.”

“Aye, Captain,” he said, reminding her that she still wore his hat. She grinned. Propping himself up on his elbows, Mogens watched her pump her fist around his shaft, appreciating the view and the slick, obscene sounds her movements made.

“Alright, sailor, let’s see what you’re made of,” Teo murmured, and took his balls in her free hand, massaging and squeezing very gently. That was enough for Mogens; he came hard, pearly spurts of semen painting Teo’s fingers and his own lower belly. Wheezing from the exertion, he flopped back into the bed.

“Skies above, woman, that was incredible,” he managed.

“Tell me about it.”

Teo got up into her hands and knees and moved up so she could drop herself down on Mogens’ heaving gut, resting her chin on her hands. Their combined mess slicked between them, but she didn’t care. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him softly, then rolled off him, removed his hat from her head, and sighed.

“That was great,” she finally said. Mogens, still wheezing, nodded in agreement. They lay there for a while, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow. Eventually, Teo turned her head and looked at the boatman. He was staring up at the ceiling, looking vacant and a little awkward.

“Mogens,” she said, “c’mere.”

He blinked.

“Hmm?”

“I said, come here.”

Mogens slowly turned to stare at her, then he reached over, grabbed the whiskey from the bedside table, and shifted until his head rested on her offered arm. Sighing, she pulled him closer, cuddling him against her chest and stroking his sweaty hair. He seemed to freeze for a moment, clutching the whiskey bottle in one hand.

“Relax, boatman, this isn’t a chokehold,” Teo murmured. “I won’t hurt you.”

Mogens spluttered a laugh. He finally did relax, letting her cradle him against her side, and unscrewed the cap from the bottle.

“You’re sure a weird one, miss Teodora,” he said. He took a long draught from the bottle. “But I bet you’ve heard that before.”

“There’s the Mogens we all know and love,” she replied, and kissed him on the forehead. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”

“Off to a magical land where pretty women push me down and sit on my face, I guess.”

He handed her the bottle and rolled over, pressing his stubbly face into her neck. A sharp twinge of pain startled Teo in the middle of taking a mouthful of whiskey, and she nearly spat it out, but managed to swallow it at the last second.

“Bastard,” she croaked. “I dare you to do that agai— ow!”

A gust of breath tickled her skin when he chuckled, then he nipped the spot once more.

“Suck it up, buttercup, your neck is over here looking all bare and I’m just trying to fix that,” he said, and lifted his head to grin into her face.

“You’re terrible,” Teo told him, and leaned down to kiss his smiling mouth. “Absolutely terrible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "In Morte, Pax" is supposed to mean "In Death, Peace" but that is using the internet and not some sort of arcane knowledge of Latin so it could be wrong


	15. Chapter 15

Teo wasn’t sure how she’d fallen asleep, but the next thing she knew her eyes were opening on a rough, wooden ceiling that was completely unfamiliar. She had no idea where she was until she sat up and her gaze landed on the man sleeping next to her. Mogens was fast asleep. Though the outside world saw nothing but his toothy smile when he was awake, his sleeping face showed heavy, sad lines. The words he’d said the night before ran through Teo’s head. _‘You don’t really want me, miss Teodora._ _No one in their right mind buys broken, secondhand merchandise…’_ Her mouth twisted into a bitter line. It wasn’t difficult to tell that life had put him through the wringer. Was it better to leave that alone, or was it worth the effort it would take to pry?

Teo rubbed her hands over her eyes. Her head ached, a testament to the amount of whiskey she’d drunk the night before. _The night before…_ She hadn’t even started to process what had happened. It took a long minute of internal debate for Teo to haul herself out of the bed. Her eyes had been locked on the bottle that stood on the bedside table with enough intensity that she nearly tripped over one of her own boots before she reached it. The bottle sloshed when she tipped it back, and Mogens grunted, but he didn’t seem to wake. She drank. It was as she was replacing the bottle in its spot that she saw it; a tiny drawer had been fitted into the bedside table in a way that made it nearly invisible, but a minuscule, yellowed corner of what she thought was paper had been caught in the drawer the last time it was closed. She swallowed. This might be more than she was bargaining for. This was probably a very poor decision.

_You’re snooping,_ she told herself, but she couldn’t quite stop her hand as it reached out. The drawer squeaked, and she jumped and looked around, but the boatman didn’t stir.

The corner belonged to an ancient-looking photograph. In the darkness of the early morning, Teo nearly had to press the end of her long nose to the cracked surface to make out what the subject of the picture was. For a moment, she thought she was imagining it, _but no,_ the face she was looking at was most certainly Mogens’, though younger and much happier, the wispy edges of beard just beginning to show at the corners of his jaw. He sported a crisp, new sailor’s uniform, and a huge, sunny smile. On either side of him were a short, shifty-looking, thin man, and a taller, broader man with an open, yet mischievous face, and to their sides and behind them stood several other young men, all wearing the same uniform.

Teo couldn’t put the photograph back fast enough. The rational part of her brain had been right, that had been a poor decision, and it had most definitely been more than she’d bargained for. Mogens’ smiling face swam in front of her eyes and she blinked. He’d looked so… _happy._

She began to dress, pulling her clothes on in a haphazard way as she thought. Her attention was so focused on her clothing that she didn’t notice when the boatman stirred and lifted his head.

“What time’s it?” he muttered. Teo started, then looked out of the tiny, grimy window.

“Early,” she said shortly, and tugged in her boots. “Go back to sleep.”

“Where are you off to so early, then?”

“Home.”

“Ah, home,” Mogens said. He was clearly still half asleep. “Home, where I can sleep among the fishes…”

“Sleep, boatman,” Teo told him, and walked over to kiss him on the forehead.

“Mmm,” he mumbled. He rolled over and pulled the covers up over his head, and Teo left.

Full of a confusing tornado of mixed emotions, Teo once again dove into her work. She spun until her back ached, then moved to her herbalist table, then went outside to chop wood. Too much was going on in her head. What had that evening with Mogens even meant? Had it just been purely physical, or something more? And what were the implications of the photograph she’d found? The whole business disturbed her on a deep level that she couldn’t quite understand, so she tried to bury it, but it continued to resurface, especially in her dreams.

Teo lost track of time. Nearly two weeks passed before life paid her a call. She was working on a remedy at her herbalist table when a sound filtered into her stupefied brain.

“—Teo! Teo, are you in there?”

The front door burst open and Jesper blew in with an icy wind, red with the cold and looking a little frantic.

“Where is Mogens?” he cried. “The mail is backed up, and I can’t find him anywhere!”

“Isn’t he just on his boat?” she asked, and the smiling man in the photograph flashing before her eyes.

“No! I’ve looked! He’s not on anyone’s porch, he’s not on his boat, he’s not in the bar—!”

“Have you looked in his house?”

Jesper stared at her, gaping like a fish.

“He has a house?”

“Of course he does, it’s just down the lane from—”

“No, wait, wait,” Jesper interrupted. “You know where his house is? I’ve asked him where it is for months and he’s never told me where it is!”

“I didn’t even ask,” Teo said. She was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. “He just took me there?”

“He took— oh, hold on.” A slight smile began to tug the edges of Jesper’s mouth, though he still looked a bit worried. “I think I might know what’s going on. Will you take me to his house?”

“…Am I even allowed to?”

“Oh, come on, Teo, I would’ve found it eventually. He probably has pinup posters all over the walls or something, or a collection of fishing rods, or—”

“I think Mogens will probably survive if I show you where he lives,” Teo said over his rambling. “Just promise me you won’t take advantage of it. You can tell him I found you outside and you already knew, or something. If he’s even there.”

Stomach sinking a little, Teo got her jacket and led Jesper outside.

“So you and Mogens, then?” Jesper asked snidely. A flush of heat and confusion rose into Teo’s cheeks.

“I have no idea,” she replied. “You know how he is, trying to get answers from him is like pulling teeth. Without painkillers. I haven’t even tried to ask.”

“Hmm.”

Jesper paused in his questioning to consider her answer, allowing Teo a minute to gather her wits.

“He’s a handful,” Jesper said eventually. “I think he likes you, though. He’s only such an asshole to people he likes, and he’s been softening up for a little while now anyway. Maybe he’s finally ready to admit that he’s still a man with feelings?”

“Unlikely,” Teo said. Her voice must’ve sounded too grim, because Jesper shot her a worried look.

“Well, I have hope for you both, then,” he said, turning back to the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two semi-explained ocs are @captainmogens ocs Ódhran and Howie, they're fantastic <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Teo and Jesper discover something unsettling, and attempt to remedy the situation...

“That damn boatman,” Jesper exclaimed. “I’ve walked past this house so many times!”

“You have?”

“I’ve walked past every house in this town at least once.”

“Sounds like you have a tough job,” Teo said.

“You think the job is tough? Look at my calves!”

“Weren’t you trying to find Mogens?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Lead the way.”

The steps creaked under Teo’s feet again as she walked up them, bringing back the memory of watching Mogens’ back disappear through the rough wooden door.

“Mogens?” Jesper called from behind her as they entered the tiny house. Was it dustier than she remembered?

“This is not what I imagined,” the postman said. “I was thinking more… pizazz?”

“Mogens, are you in here?” Teo called. Something shifted upstairs.

“Either he’s up there or we’re about to get a very unpleasant surprise,” Jesper said, and followed Teo as she made for the staircase.

“Why not both?” Teo replied as they emerged in the tiny upstairs room. They looked around.

It didn’t look much different that Teo remembered. The bed was still a mess, the walls were still bare, the floor still creaked… A bottle rolled out from the other side of the bed.

“Mogens!”

Jesper ran over and stared down at the floor, his eyes wide with shock, then he turned and beckoned Teo over to him.

Something that _might_ have been Mogens lay face down on the boards, looking more like a pile of dirty clothes than a person. Bottles had been strewn around the ragged lump, ranging in size and shape from the tiniest flask to the now empty bottle of whiskey that Teo thought she recognized.

“What do you think happened to him? Is he dead?” Jesper asked frantically, wringing his hands.

“I don’t think so.”

Teo moved forward, kicking bottles out of the way, and knelt to roll the lump onto its back. It was indeed Mogens, but he looked… _terrible._ Dark, purple circles hung around his closed, sunken eyes, giving him a look reminiscent of a frozen corpse. His face was scruffier than Teo had ever seen it. She leaned closer then backpedaled fast; he reeked of stale alcohol and unwashed human, and not in a way that could be described as even mildly pleasant.

“Does this happen often?” Teo asked Jesper, not looking away from the pale, cadaverous horror that lay in front of her.

“Um, no?” Jesper replied. Shrugging, Teo reached down and felt for Mogens’ pulse, and was a bit relieved to find it beating slowly, but steadily enough.

“He’s alive.”

The postman sighed with relief. Ignoring the sound, Teo took hold of Mogens’ shoulders and shook him.

“Wake up,” she said sharply. No response. She shook him again. “Snap out of it, you bastard.”

“Go away, hallucination.”

The rumble was so deep and raspy that Teo almost looked around for the source, then she realized that it had come from the boatman.

“I’m not a hallucination.”

“…They all say that.”

One sleep-crusted eye cracked open and peered blearily up at her, then closed again.

“You’re not real, so go away.”

Turning to Jesper, Teo raised her eyebrows and frowned.

“Should I be insulted? I feel a little insulted,” she said. Jesper looked a bit lost for words, so he shrugged instead. Turning back to Mogens, Teo shook him again.

“Wake. Up,” she snapped. She was beginning to lose patience. Then she sighed. She should know better at this point. She’d seen some of this man, some of the things that hid under his shield, and knew that he didn’t respond well to the kind of thing she was doing. She let him go.

“Mogens, please.”

The roughness of his jaw scraped against her skin as she cupped his face in one hand, rubbing one thumb over the stubble beside his mouth. With the other hand, she traced the lines that radiated from the corner of his eye, following each until it ended. Her hands trembled.

“C’mon, you asshole, come back,” she murmured, stroking her fingers over the hair next to his ear.

After a minute, he stirred. His chest rose, then fell, and he turned his head, pushing his face into her hand, seeking more of the touch.

“Mhn,” he grunted. “Tha’s nice.”

“What happened to you?” Teo whispered. She continued to touch his face, watching as he began to come around for real.

“Wha?”

He opened his eyes, blinked, reached up to rub them with his fists, then blinked again.

“But you’re not real,” he rasped. “You’re not… real.”

“Well, I may not be real, but you’re still a dick.”

His eyes opened wider, and he reached up a wavering, hesitant hand.

“You aren’t…”

The skin of his palm was cold when Teo took it and pressed it to her cheek.

“You need to drink more water,” she whispered, not trusting herself to say anything else. His fingers twitched.

“I probably do,” he admitted. A spasm crossed his unshaven face. “If it wasn’t all a dream, then…” He took a breath, and his hand slipped back and fisted in her braids, pulling her closer.

“You stink, boatman,” she told him. “As much as I’d love to… well, you need a bath. And also Jesper is here.”

“Jesper?”

“Mogens, why do you look like you’ve died? And why aren’t you running the mail to the mainland?” Jesper asked.

“I’m not dead?” Mogens asked. “Why am I not dead?”

Realizing that this was going to need more serious action, Teo detached Mogens’ hand from her hair and stood up.

“Right, we need to get him back in order, don’t you think?”

“I mean, the mail needs to go to the mainland eventually, so I guess so?” Jesper replied.

“Such a kind postman,” Mogens muttered from the floor. “Just leave me to die, then, and you can have the damn boat.”

“There’s a kettle on the stove downstairs, can you start the fire and make some tea? Just look around for stuff.” Turning back to Mogens, Teo frowned. “Do you even have a tub?”

“Maybe? …Don’t think I’ve checked in a while.”

“Gross.”

The tiny, ancient-looking bathtub wasn’t too difficult to find. It was in a tiny room downstairs, along with the oldest, hardest bar of soap Teo had ever seen. Eventually, using a mixture of coaxing, threats, and encouragement, Teo got Mogens down the stairs and into the room with the tub. Jesper was still occupied with smoking up the kitchen, so Teo shut the wooden door behind them and surveyed the boatman. He swayed slightly on his feet.

“Alright, you bastard,” Teo said, plucking Mogens’ hat off his head and putting it on, “I’m the captain now, and I want to see all this… come off.”

A slow grin spread across Mogens’ face, and a faint sparkle of light returned to his eyes.

“Aye, captain,” he said. He slowly stripped his clothes away from his grimy skin, baring all of his beautiful tattoos. Teo watched, and kicked the dirty garments aside as he stepped out of them, then waited for him to climb into the tub. Water sloshed over the sides.

“Baths… aren’t natural,” he said, looking up at her.

“Scrub,” she replied, “or I’ll dunk you.”

Chuckling, he picked up the bar of soap, and Teo left him to it. She emerged to find Jesper finally managing to start the fire, coated with a layer of ash and looking triumphant, and laughed.

“Where’s the tea, Jesper?”

“Don’t rush me!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got it!”

“Alrighty, cadet, keep up the good work.”

Mogens was a simple man. He had one spare change of clothes piled on a chair at the foot of the bed upstairs. Grabbing them, Teo returned to the bathroom to find Mogens nearly asleep in the bath.

“Wake up!” Teo exclaimed, kicking the side of the tub with her booted toe. “No sleeping in the bathtub!”

Mogens jumped and sat up.

“Did you even wash?” she asked. He shrugged.

“Why don’t you come a bit closer and find out?”

“If you insist.”

She did move closer and bend down, but it was to kiss his forehead.

“You’re still dirty. Use the soap, will you?”

“Some dirty doesn’t wash off, you know,” Mogens complained, picking up the soap once again. “My insides are twice as blackened—”

“Soap!” she commanded. This time she stayed to watch and make sure he would clean himself properly. He made a bit of a show about it, reluctant or no, which made her snort with laughter. When she was satisfied, she stopped and picked up a bucket that had been tucked under the tub. At her word, Mogens stood and she handed him the bucket.

“Now rinse!”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! In which both words and spit are exchanged...

Teo emerged from the bathroom a while later with a cleaner boatman and a cloud of soapy scent. Jesper had found the tea, poured water into the pot, and located mugs while she was convincing Mogens to dress and clean his teeth. It had taken a while.

Mogens was beginning to seem a bit more like his normal self. The corners of his mouth quirked when Jesper asked him if he had sugar for the tea.

“Nope. Never needed sweetening before,” he said, and Teo snorted.

“You could do with some sugar every now and then,” she said. Jesper rolled his eyes and poured the tea.

With the promise that outgoing mail would be delivered the next day, the postman left. As soon as the door shut behind him, Teo turned to Mogens, eyebrows raised.

“Would you like to explain what the hell all that was now, or should I come back later when you’ve had some time to think up a clever answer?”

“You’re angry with me?”

“ _Angry?_ ” she repeated. She began to pace, then stopped.

“Yes, I’m angry. You just… will you just tell me what happened… please?”

“Don’t know if I can properly,” Mogens said. The cup of tea in his hand shook somewhat as he raised it and sipped.

“You were fine when I last saw you,” Teo commented, then immediately remembered the circumstances of their last encounter and blushed. A grin tugged Mogens’ mouth into a toothy curve, then it faded.

“’No one in their right mind buys broken, secondhand merchandise,’” he said deliberately. The words sounded just as bitter as they had the first time he’d spoken them. “When I didn’t see you again after that, just out and around, I thought I’d just dreamed the whole evening, so I drank, like I always do.” He sighed. “One thing led to another, and here I am.”

Setting her mug down, Teo looked him in the eye.

“So, let me get this straight. You probably stopped eating, started drinking, and stopped doing your job, all because I wasn’t out in town a lot and you thought you’d dreamed that we had sex?”

“My brain works how it works,” Mogens said, shrugging. “I just…”

His bravado disappeared. Underneath he looked upset, and almost scared.

“I don’t like being vulnerable, miss Teodora, for this exact reason. If you open up, something always comes along and hurts you again.” He reached across the table to take Teo’s hand. “I don’t hate having you around. I might… like it. I dunno. And then, you, uh… and it just… everything… cracked.”

Teo returned his grip.

“I should’ve stopped caring about anything a long time ago, but that postman opened me up again a little and then you were there,” he continued, looking down at the table. “You also stuck around, and I couldn’t get rid of you. Then, when you left that morning… the whole night just felt too good to be real. I don’t deserve nice things, miss Teodora,” he said, looking up, his black eyes deadly serious. “But you’re here again. So, now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

Teo walked around the tiny table, trying to swallow the lump in her throat, and took his face carefully in her hands.

“Mogens, I like you a lot. You’re a gross, irritating bastard, but I don’t really care. Spending time with you is fun, and I’m not going anywhere any time soon. If you aren’t disgusted by that fact, maybe we can… I dunno.”

“What?” Mogens asked, but he turned his face into her hands, pressing his lips to both her palms in turn. “What could you possibly be suggesting?”

His mouth was warm against hers as she kissed him, his upper lip and jaw rough against her skin. She thought that he would probably always taste like whiskey, no matter how long it had been since he’d had something to drink. Pulling back, she grinned and said,

“I have no clue, but we can try to figure it out, y’know, together, or something?”

“That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Mogens replied, then he sobered, and reached out to tug on one of her braids.

“I’m still… are you sure… you still want me?”

“Hmmm, do I?” she said. Mogens eyebrows twitched.

“That’s not—”

“Let’s check.”

Teo hauled the boatman onto his feet and lugged him aside, shoving him up against the wall, then kissed him hard. His breath whooshed out and he responded eagerly, tugging her against his body, and he moaned. Heat poured down Teo’s throat and into her lungs. She broke off, tipped his head back, and pressed her mouth to his neck, applying her teeth and tongue until Mogens was squirming under her touch. When she let him go, he was glassy-eyed, with purple bruises quite visible above the neck of his sweater. Teo smiled.

“Yeah, I’d say I still want you, broken, bastard personality and all,” she said, tweaking his nose. “Anyway, let’s go find some food, I’m fucking starving.”

Mogens looked up at her, then his mouth twisted into his favorite, crooked grin.

“Aye, Captain.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue now...


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the cheesiest epilogue I could manage, enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Epilogue

Dusty sunlight filtered through the window into the tiny room, illuminating a discarded sweater and deep red scarf that lay on the floor. Beside them was a solitary boot. On the other side of the bed, a pair of pants and a shirt had been unceremoniously dropped on the floorboards in the haste to get them off.

The bed creaked. The blankets shifted, and a foot stuck out from underneath the sheets, then was quickly withdrawn. Teo rolled over and wrapped her arms around the man sleeping next to her. He grunted when her cold hands found their way onto his chest.

“You know Jesper is gonna freak when you miss the mail shipment again this morning, right?”

“Mmh.”

“He’ll probably come to the front door and yell.”

Mogens rolled over and pulled her lazily toward him.

“Let’m yell all he wants,” he graveled. “’M not getting up. Too comfy.”

He grinned sleepily and turned his face up for a kiss.

“You’re a lazy bastard,” Teo told him. Chuckling, Mogens rested his head on her chest, his ear over her heart.

“And you’re an enabler, so we’re even,” he said.

“Mmm but you love that about me, don’t you?”

His laugh shook them both, and his hand found hers under the covers. Warmth shone in their intertwined bodies.

“Yeah, I think I might.”

“You might? Mogens, how many years has it been?”

“Was I supposed to keep count?”

Teo smacked the top of his head.

“Alright, I give in, I give in …I do love that about you. That, among other things.”

“You sweet-talker, you.”

“And aren’t you going to say what you love about me?” Mogens asked, lifting his head and shifting to look her in the eyes. Smiling, Teo leaned forward to kiss him softly on the mouth, feeling him grin against her lips.

“Oh, I dunno… almost everything.”

“That’s cheating.”

“No it’s not. Anyway, remind me to cover that window later, it’s too early for it to be so bright in here.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

Mogens flopped down again and reached an arm around Teo’s waist. He pressed his lips to her collarbone, then closed his eyes. His breathing slowed.

Teo breathed in time with the rise and fall of his chest, and her eyelids drooped.

“Are you happy?” she asked softly. She hadn’t really expected an answer, but Mogens’ hold tightened around her. He squeezed, then relaxed, and sighed.

“I am.”


End file.
